^■^'      ijeitli   ^Oca^^r^      ^.^pxt^,«^^ 


LIBRARY 

OK   TIM. 

University  of  California. 


GIKX  OK 


,i/Jcccssioii  ^^  3  \  *0  Class 


EDOC. 

PSYCH. 

UWARY 


The  Philosophy  of 

Memory  and  other  Essays 


Consistina;  of  articles  on  The  Philoso- 
phy of  Emphasis,  The  Functions  of 
the  Fluid  Wedge,  The  Birth  of  a  Planet, 
and  The  Laws  of  Riverflow.     .     .     . 


By  D.  T.  SMITH,  M.  D., 

Lecturer  on  Medical  Jurisprudence  in 
the  University  of  Louisville.     .     .     . 

Pp.  203.     Price,  $1.00  Net. 


PRESS  OF  JOHN  P.  MORTON  &  COMPANY, 
LOUISVILLE, 


THIS  book  deals  with  a  mmil)er  of  interesting 
problems  that  have  held  a  leading  place  in  the 
attention  of  many  of  the  foremost  philosophers 
and  scientists  of  the  last  three  centuries  ;  prol>lems 
that  for  the  most  part  have  up  to  the  present 
remained  confessedl)'  unsolved. 

The  leading  essay,  "The  Philosophy  of  Mem- 
ory," is  an  effort  to  establish  the  wave  or  vibration 
theory  of  mind.  It  treats  of  the  common  force  of 
nature  in  its  relation  to  the  vital  force ;  the  nature 
of  the  soul,  its  possible  or  probable  origin,  and  its 
relation  to  vital  manifestations ;  the  nature  of 
mind  and  conscious  as  well  as  sul)conscious 
mental  activities  ;  of  memory  as  the  result  of 
vibrations  persistent  in  the  brain  cells  ;  of  the 
resemblance  between  the  cast  of  memories  and  of 
the  external  activities  that  arouse  them,  and  of  the 
process  by  which  thoughts,  ideas,  and  emotions 
are  evolved,  directed,  and  preserved ;  of  mind- 
reading  and  telepathy  ;  of  grouping  of  vibrations 
as  the  source  of  our  conceptions  of  beauty  and 
truth,  and  of  the  law  of  form  in  art  and  conduct ; 
and  finally  of  the  religious  feeling  as  related  to  and 
arising  out  of  the  gentlest  and  mildest  of  the 
undulations  of  the  ether. 

The  second  essay,  "  The  Philosophy  of  Empha- 
sis," is  a  supplementary  essay  closely  related  to 
"The  Philosophy  of  Memory,"  and  applies  the 
vibratory  theory  to  elocution  and  the  laws  of  vocal 
expression. 

"The  Functions  of  the  Fluid  Wedge,  or  The 
Philosophy  of  Sphere-forming,"  treats  of  a  new 
principle  in  physics,  claimed  as  a  discovery  by 
the  author,  and  relates  to  the  mechanism  by  which 
fluids  seek  equilibrium.  It  assumes  that  the 
molecules  of  fluids  and  liquids  constitute  in  their 
arrangement  an  unlimited  number  of  potential 
prisms  or  wedges,  and  that  in  all  readjustments 
of  fluids  or  liquids  these  wedges  move  upon  each 
other  essentially  as  would  a  like  number  of  solid 
wedges,  could  these  move  upon  each  other  sub- 
stantially without  friction. 


Under  this  principle  is  explained  how  a  flexible 
tube  such  as  a  section  of  garden  hose,  or  the  receiver 
in  a  Bourdon  steam  gauge,  straightens  under  the 
pressure  of  a  contained  fluid  ;  why  the  soap  bubble, 
the  to}'  balloon,  or  the  raindrop  becomes  a  sphere  ; 
why  the  tea  in  the  spout  has  the  same  level  as  that 
in  the  teapot ;  and  how  bodies  of  water  can  rock 
as  they  do  in  so-called  "seches."  The  theory  also 
explains  the  movements  resulting  in  earthquakes 
and  volcanoes,  and  shows  that  the  so-called  hydro- 
static paradox  is  not  a  paradox  biit  an  example  of 
uniform  law. 

"  The  Birth  of  a  Planet"  is  a  criticism  of  the 
nebular  hypothesis  of  La  Place,  which  seeks  to 
show  that  planets  and  satellites  could  not  have 
originated  as  hitherto  taught  by  astronomers  ;  that 
is,  they  could  not  have  Vjeen  formed  from  nebulous 
rings,  but  that  they  must  have  been  cast  off  at  a 
tangent  by  the  parent  l)odies,  and  must  revolve  in 
a  larger  circle  than  that  in  which  they  moved 
while  yet  a  part  of  the  parent  body.  The  possible 
collision  of  cometary  masses  with  the  nebulous 
rims  of  revolving  globes  is  suggested  as  the  pos- 
sible source  of  origin  of  planets  and  satellites. 

The  fifth  and  last  essay,  "The  Laws  of  River- 
flow,  or  the  True  Theory  of  Streams,"  has  a  pecul- 
iar interest  as  claiming  to  offer  an  entirely  satis- 
factory solution  of  the  refractory  puzzles  involved 
in  the  behavior  of  streams  flowing  in  open  channels, 
a  problem  whose  solution  has  been  diligently 
sought  by  a  large  number  of  the  most  astute 
intellects  of  modern  times  ;  such  renowned  names 
as  Gallileo,  Newton,  Paschal,  Thompson,  and 
Tyndall  having  been  among  the  leaders  in  the 
investigation. 

This  essay  treats  first  of  the  beginning  of  the 
seas  and  the  inauguration  of  drainage,  which  was 
developed  under  the  principle  advocated.  Next 
follows  a  history  and  demonstration  of  the  forming 
of  a  stream  of  water  and  its  channel,  wherein  it  is 
shown  that  by  the  laws  governing  friction  and 
motion  every  stream  throughout  its  length  is 
necessarily  divided  into  parallel  halves  rolling 
toward  each  other  spirally  at  the  top. 

But  for  this  principle,  "  the  law  of  the  double 
spiral,"  as  the  author  names  it,  it  is  conclusively 
shown  that  there  could  be  no  channel  formation, 


but  that  the  water  would  simply  creep  over  the 
earth  to  the  seas,  and  that  the  earth  would  thus 
present  a  vast  marsh  or  riverless  waste  upon  which 
the  maintenance  of  human  life,  as  we  now  observe 
it,  would  be  imi)ossil)le.  Under  this  principle  the 
author  explains  the  shape  of  channels ;  the  pro- 
portion of  channels  in  size  to  the  streams  they 
carry  ;  their  limit  as  to  depth  and  width  ;  the  fact 
that  the  greatest  speed  of  streams  is  at  some  dis- 
tance beneath  the  free  surface  ;  that  streams  are 
higher  in  the  middle  than  at  the  edges ;  that  delta 
rivers  have  many  mouths,  and  that  the  banks  of 
such  streams  are  highest  at  their  margins  and 
gradually  slope  away  toward  a  lower  level. 

In  short,  the  principle  is  shown  to  be  the  basis 
and  the  absolutely  indispensable  factor  of  nearly 
all  earth  sculpture.  The  principle  of  the  "  double 
spiral"  is  shown  to  apply  also  to  the  movement  of 
glaciers  and  atmospheric  currents  as  well  as  to 
liquids;  The  essay  closes  with  suggestion  of  the 
utility  of  the  principle  in  its  application  to  the 
improvement  and  control  of  the  Mississippi  and 
other  large  rivers. 

The  book  is  replete  with  interesting  suggestions, 
and,  though  not  large,  is  hardl}-  surpassed  by  any 
other  one  volume  in  the  number  of  discoveries  of 
important  scientific  principles  it  plausibly  sets 
forth.  

The  following  are  some  of  the  review  notices 
of  the  work,  notices  that  have  been  uniformly 
favorable  : 

The  BookseIvIvER,  Chicago. — "The  Philos- 
ophy of  Memory  and  Other  Essays,"  by  D.  T. 
Smith,  M.  D.,  is  a  book  that  will  interest  every 
student  and  thinker. 

Omaha  .  Bre. — The  writer  is  undoubtedly  a 
deep  thinker,  and  his  work  will  be  enjoyed  b}'  all 
who  are  fond  of  delving  into  abtruse  siibjects. 

Ohio  State  Journal- — The  essay  is  written 
in  clear,  lucid  English,  with  no  affectation  of  meta- 
physical patois,  so  that  it  can  be  apprehended  by 
any  reader  of  average  intelligence.  The  other 
essays  in  the  collection  will  be  found  almost 
equally  interesting  and  suggestive. 


Portland  Transcript. — Dr.  Smith  is  an  origi- 
nal thinker,  and  this  volume  will  attract  attention 
to  him  and  his  views. 

Gai^veston  Daily  News. — These  essays  can 
not  but  prove  of  interest  to  men  who  have  more 
than  a  rudimentary  knowledge  of  science. 

Virginian  Pilot. — Dr.  Smith  takes  as  his 
motto  "  Nil  tarn  difficile  est  quin  quaerendo  in- 
vestigari possit,''  and  the  masterly  way  in  which* 
the  first  essay  on  Memory  and  the  succeeding  essays 
on  "  The  Philosophy  of  Emphasis,'  "  Functions  of 
the  Fluid  Wedge,"' "The  Birth  of  a  Planet,"  and 
"The  Laws  of  Riverflow  "  are  treated,  show  that 
he  has  lived  up  to  it. 

Toronto  Globe. — His  study  is  interesting, 
especially  that  part  of  it  covering  the  sympathetic 
relation  of  all  existing  things. 

The  Louisville  Dispatch. — The  essays,  in- 
stead of  being  a  heavy  scientific  treatise,  really 
constitute  a  series  of  scientific  prose-poems,  which 
even  were  they  without  value  as  science,  would 
deserve  to  be  treasured  as  literary  productions. 

Denver  Republican. — These  titles  show  a 
wide  field  of  research.  They  are  all  deductive  as 
to  reasoning  and  radical  in  tone,  the  author  not 
following  blindly  the  generally  accepted  theories 
of  science,  as  do  so  many. 

Salt  Lake  Tribune.— Enough  certainly  for 
one  volume,  and  containing  a  vast  deal  of  interest- 
ing matter. 

Wilmington  Morning  News. — "The  Philos- 
ophy of  Memory,"  by  D.  T.  Smith,  M.  D.,  is  a 
serious  work  on  interesting  problems  that  will  ap- 
peal to  students  in  a  particiilar  line  of  thought.  The 
writer  reveals  that  he  has  given  the  several  subjects 
deep  consideration,  and  what  he  has  to  say  will 
appeal  to  readers  who  are  in  search  of  information 
upon  the  several  subjects  discussed. 

Louisville  Courier-Journal. — The  essayist 
not  only  shows  that  by  careful  reading  he  has 
mastered  the  literature  of  these  questions,  but 
develops  original  research  and  thought  in  .a  re- 
markable degree. 


IvOuisvii.LK  Commercial.— A  book  which  be- 
lonj<s  to  hij^h-grade  and  lastinj^  literature,  and 
wliich  carries  the  vahiable  qualities  of  research, 
thoujflit,  and  noteworthy  theory.  These  essays 
use  no  waste  words  ;  and  every  thought  belongs 
just  where  it  is  placed,  and  can  not  be  eliminated 
for  the  .sake  of  brevity  or  any  other  cause.  The 
reader  who  is  interested  in  the  theories  will  follow 
the  lines  from  cover  to  cover.  *  ••■  A  collection  of 
fine  essays. 

The  Chicago  Chronicle.— The  essays  are 
interesting,  and  those  treating  of  the  movements 
of  fluids  especially  are  ingenious  and  strongly 
reasoned.  '■■■  *  So  far  as  the  present  writer  knows, 
the  theory  (Theory  of  Streams)  has  not  been  ad- 
vocated by  any  other,  and  seems  to  be  one  of 
immense  value  in  studying  the  troublesome  prob- 
lems connected  with  the  control  of  any  great  river. 

Hartford  Times. — The  presentation  of  the 
subject  (The  Philosophy  of  Memory)  is  singularly 
clear  in  view  of  its  difficulties.  The  essay  will  be 
found  exceedingly  interesting  even  to  lay  readers. 
*  ■■■  The  same  simple  style  and  clearness  runs 
through  them  all,  and  makes  the  discussion  of 
intricate  problems  entertaining. 

Milwaukee  Journal. — It  must  be  confessed 
that  the  doctor's  ideas  on  these  subjects  may  be 
described  as  sufficiently  novel  to  run  the  risk  of 
being  called  fantastic,  yet  who  knows  but  that 
he  may  be  right?  The  great  inventions  of  our 
epoch  would  all  of  them  have  seemed  fantastic  to 
us  before  they  became  proven  facts. 

Nature  (Organ  of  British  Scientists). — Dr.  D. 
T.  Smith  is  an  amateur  of  philosophy  in  that  wider 
sense  of  the  word  which  includes  physics,  and  his 
speculations  as  they  are  modestly  put  forward  in 
the  present  volume  range  from  a  distinction  of 
organic  and  inorganic  to  an  adverse  criticism  of 
the  nebular  hypothesis.  Residence  on  the  banks 
of  the  Mississippi  enabled  him  to  discover  the 
formula  of  a  double-spiral  action  by  which  to  ex- 
plain the  elevation  of  the  middle  of  a  stream,  the 
drift   of  floating  material  from   the   sides  and  of 


sunken  material  to  the  sides,  the  shape  and  depth 
of  eroded  channels,  and  the  differing  speed  of  di- 
verse portions  of  the  current.  This  piece  of  at 
least  unborrowed  speculation  appears  not  unworthy 
of  consideration. 

Los  Angeles  Times.— The  essays  all  show 
the  true  scientific  spirit,  the  desire  to  get  at  the 
truth,  whatever  it  may  be,  ■■  *  and  his  argument 
for  the  most  part  is  of  the  close-built  sort  which 
shows  the  mind  trained  in  the  modern  methods  of 
scientific  research. 

Indianapolis  Sentinel- — At  any  rate  these 
essays  are  very  refreshing  and  will  set  the  reader 
to  thinking,  and  it  is  just  this  kind  of  work  and 
thought  that  speeds  onward  the  sum  total  of  human 
knowledge. 

Rocky  Mountain  News. — In  his  argument 
Dr.  Smith  presents  an  exceedingly  interesting 
chain  of  reasoning  based  upon  the  operations  of 
the  mind  and  the  characteristics  of  force,  and 
indeed  he  discusses  most  of  those  puzzling  prob- 
lems which  impress  themselves  upon  all  of  us 
when  we  consider  the  mysteries  of  life,  of  the 
brain,  of  emotion,  and  of  all  those  processes  which 
make  up  the  mentality  of  a  human  being. 

New  York  Medical  Journal. — The  book 
treats  of  subjects  that  have  long  occiipied  the 
writer  and  are  of  general  interest.  The  essays 
are  pleasingly  written  and  thoughtful,  and  contain 
many  original  suggestions  and  speculations. 

Westminster  Review  (London). — Dr.  D.  T. 
Smith's  Philosophy  of  Memory  and  Other  Essays 
also  deals  with  telepathy  and  similar  subjects  The 
phenomena  of  telepathy  and  thought-reading  are 
attributed  to  subtle  waves  which  produce  no  im- 
pression on  the  senses  under  ordinary  conditions. 
*  ■■•■  Among  the  physical  essays  the  best  are  those 
on  the  "  Functions  of  the  Fluid  Wedge  "  and  the 
"  Laws  of  Riverflow."  Both  of  these  contain  new 
ideas,  and  are  well  worth  the  study  of  those  in- 
terested in  mechanical  problems. 


THE 

Philosophy  of  Memory 

2ln£)   ©tber  JSeen^e 

Consisting  of  Articles  on 

THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  EMPHASIS 

THE  FUNCTIONS  OF  THE  FLUID  WEDGE 

THE  BIRTH  OF  A  PLANET 

THE  LAWS  OF  RIVERFLOW 


D.  T.  SMITH,  M.D. 

Lecturer  on  Medical  Jurisprudence  in  the  University  of  Louisville 


Nil  tattt  difficile  est,  quin  qucBrendo  im>estigari possit 


LOUISVILLE,  KY. 

ht&z  of  5o?iTi  'P.  ffiorfon  &  (iTompan^ 
1899 


Copyrighted,  1899,  by  D.  T.  Smith. 


EBUC. 

PSYCH. 

LIBRARY 


To 

Whose  generous  care  in  fostering  The  Filson  Club,  encouraging 
literature  in  kentucky,  and  promoting  research  into  the 

HISTORY   OF    THE    StATE   WILL    EVER    ENTITLE    HIM    TO 
AN    UNFADING    PAGE   IN    HER   LEGENDS,  THIS 
LITTLE    VOLUME    IS   AFFECTION- 
ATELY INSCRIBED    BY 
HIS    FRIEND 


TJtb  ^xctitav. 


PREFACE. 

In  this  collection  of  essays  is  embraced  the 
result  of  many  years  of  thought  and  observation 
on  the  part  of  the  author,  and  it  has  seemed  to 
him  that  they  might  in  some  degree  prove  worthy 
of  preservation. 

If  any  of  them  shall  prove  true,  the  importance 
of  the  matters  to  which  they  relate  entitles  them 
to  endure. 

If  it  shall  develop  that  none  of  them  is  true, 
they  may  still  serve  to  point  out  the  direction  of 
unsuccessful  endeavor,  and  thus  save  some  future 
investigator  from  a  like  vain  waste  of  time  and 
effort. 

If  perchance  a  perusal  of  these  reveries  shall 
afford  those  who  take  interest  in  such  studies  a 
pleasure  comparable  to  that  the  author  has  experi- 
enced in  their  indulgence,  he  will  not  altogether 
have  failed  of   reward. 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  MEMORY 


THE  RELATION   OF  MIND   TO  THE 
COMMON   FORCE 


INTRODUCTORY. 

The  theme  of  this  essay  has  been  a  subject  of 
inquiry  on  the  part  of  the  writer  for  a  period  of 
more  than  thirty  years. 

It  first  took  written  form  about  the  year  1874,  in 
a  communication  to  the  New  York  Sun,  in  an  effort 
to  explain  the  remarkable  phenomena  manifested  in 
connection  with  Miss  Mollie  Fancher,  of  Brooklyn, 
N.  Y.  Later,  in  1878,  the  subject  was  elaborated  at 
greater  length,  published  in  the  American  Prac- 
titioner and  News,  and  extensively  circulated  in  the 
form  of  reprints. 

In  that  article  the  position  was  distinctly  taken 
that  there  probably  can  be  no  motion  which,  on 
final  analysis,  would  not  be  found  to  be  vibratory. 
It  was  two  years  later  that  Hertz  demonstrated  the 
vibratory  nature  of  electricity.  An  effort  is  here 
made  to  prove  the  vibratory  character  of  mass, 
motion. 

As  regards  the  great  vital  principles  involved  in 
the  discussion,  the  reader  must  be  left  to  judge 
whether  or  not  progress  has  been  made  in  their 
elucidation. 

That  all  difficulties  have  been  removed,  or  even 
all  obstacles  surmounted,  the  writer  would  be  only 
too  glad  to  feel  assured. 


I O  Introductory . 

But  of  this  he  does  feel  convinced,  that  whether 
or  not  the  solution  of  the  interesting  and  weighty 
problems  has  been  reached,  and  in  fullness  it 
certainly  has  not,  so  many  telling  analogies  have 
been  found  to  apply  in  the  investigation  that  it  can 
not  well  be  otherwise  than  that  the  truth  has  been 
not  remotely  paralleled. 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  MEMORY 

Or  thk  Relation  of  Mind  to  the 
Common  Force. 

UNTIL  a  very  recent  period  investigators  sought 
to  gain  an  understanding  of  the  nature  and 
operations  of  the  mind  through  the  interrogation  of 
consciousness. 

To  this  task  many  of  the  most  astute  intellects  of 
all  times  have  addressed  themselves,  and  there  is 
every  reason  to  believe  that  practically  every  thing 
is  known  that  is  ascertainable  by  that  method.  This 
is  quite  apparent  from  the  barrenness  of  nearly  all 
recent  efforts  in  that  direction ;  for,  undertake  it 
who  might,  nothing  of  value  for  more  than  a  gener- 
ation has  in  that  way  been  added  to  the  body  of 
mental  science. 

Without  ignoring  the  valuable  assistance  supplied 
by  this  method  and  the  treasures  it  had  yielded, 
but  recognizing  that  the  mine  was  practically  ex- 
hausted to  it,  the  world  of  science  welcomed  the 
doctrine  of  evolution  as  offering  a  far  more  prom- 
ising outcome,  and  as  affording  the  only  light  that 
had  been  thrown  into  many  obscure  recesses  hitherto 
almost  wholly  unexplored. 

More  recently  still  a  new  school  of  psychologists 
has  arisen,  or  rather  the  followers  of  both  the  other 
methods  have  resorted  to  the  expedient  of  seeking 


12  The  Philosophy  of  Memory. 

by  direct  experiment  to  reach  the  desired  goal.  But 
these,  too,  are  clearly  destined  to  fall  short  of  the 
solution  of  the  difficult  problem.  There  remains, 
then,  recourse  to  the  employment  of  analogy,  which, 
though  making  no  promise  of  certainty,  gives 
earnest  of  great  helpfulness. 

But  deeply  interesting  as  are  all  questions  relat- 
ing to  the  phenomena  of  mind,  there  are  others 
still  more  interesting  arising  out  of  the  inquiry  into 
the  nature  and  source  of  these  manifestations. 
These  relate  to  the  principle  of  life,  the  tree  of 
which  mental  manifestations  are  but  the  fruit,  or 
rather  but  the  foliage. 

What  is  life .''  What  is  the  soul  1  These  are 
questions  that  every  thinking  person  asks,  and  which 
as  yet  no  one  has  ever  been  able  to  answer  with 
any  sort  of  satisfaction  either  to  himself  or  the  dis- 
criminating inquirer. 

The  essence  or  the  substance  that  lies  at  the 
foundation  of  the  phenomena  of  life  and  mind,  it  is 
not  a  venture  to  say,  will  never  be  fully  grasped  by 
human  understanding.  What  light  is  shed  upon 
it  must  be  gathered  from  deduction  and  analogy 
chiefly,  and  that  often  of  the  most  remote  and 
uncertain  character.  Even  after  light  has  been 
gathered  from  every  possible  source,  we  may  still 
be  able  to  discern  only  the  first  glimmerings  of  the 
dawn. 

As  preliminary  to  any  intelligent  discussion,  let 
us  measurably  determine  what  we  are  to  understand 
by  the  terms  to  be  employed.  We  must  first,  then, 
as  otherwise  all  our  efforts  would  be  futile,  briefly 


The  PhilosopJiy  of  Memory.  1 3 

consider  wherein  lies  the  difference  between  the 
class  of  beings  possessed  of  intelligence  and  that 
without,  between  the  living  and  the  non-living,  the 
organic  and  the  inorganic. 

Broadly  speaking,  it  is  impossible  to  lay  down 
any  consistent  rules,  to  draw  any  hard  and  fast  line, 
between  man  and  lower  living  forms,  and  to  say  that 
the  one  is  distinctly  marked  thereby  from  the  other. 
Passing  down  the  scale,  we  find  men  and  lower 
animal  forms  merging  the  one  into  the  other  almost 
insensibly ;  and  then  animals  into  plants,  until  we 
reach  the  very  lowest  order  of  life.  Here  for  the 
first  time,  between  the  organic  and  inorganic,  do  we 
find  a  distinct  and  unmistakable  line  of  demarkation  ; 
and  that  line  is  constituted  by  the  limit  of  the 
capacity  for  reproduction  or  multiplication. 

On  one  side  of  the  line  all  are  favored  with  the 
power  of  reproducing  their  kind  ;  on  the  other,  none 
is  so  favored.  In  order  to  realize  the  completeness 
of  the  distinction  marked  by  this  line,  it  will  be 
necessary  briefly  to  consider  the  nature  of  the  com- 
mon forms  of  force,  and  then  compare  some  of  the 
principles  which  govern  them  with  some  of  the  laws 
which  seem  to  govern  the  supposed  vital  force . 

CHARACTERISTICS    OF    FORCE. 

The  common  forms  of  force,  as  manifested  in 
light  and  heat,  chemical  affinity,  electricity,  mag- 
netism, the  Roentgen  rays,  and  motion  in  mass,  are 
all  known  to  be  convertible  without  loss  or  gain,  the 
one  into  the  other,  and  no  addition  is  ever  made  by 
such  conversion  to  the  total  of  energy  at  any  time 


14  The  Philosophy  of  Memory. 

in  existence,  and  no  energy  is  ever  either  created  or 
destroyed. 

Thus  a  given  quantity  of  coal  when  consumed 
will  produce,  by  the  action  of  the  chemical  affinity 
of  its  elements,  a  definite  measure  of  heat  or  light. 
This  heat  may  be  transformed  into  electricity  or 
magnetism,  and  each  in  turn  be  employed  in  impart- 
ing motion  to  a  mass  or  the  performance  of  various 
kinds  of  work. 

But  the  heat,  light,  electricity,  magnetism,  and 
the  mass  motion  have  not  in  any  true  sense  been 
produced  by  the  chemical  affinity.  Chemical  affin- 
ity has  simply  been  changed  or  transformed  in  turn 
into  each  of  these  manifestations  of  energy.  And 
after  carrying  the  energy  through  all  possible  forms 
and  then  back  to  the  one  begun  with,  if  we  gather 
up  the  waste  we  shall  have  exactly  the  quantity  with 
which  we  began. 

Let  a  cannon  ball  be  rolled  at  the  rate  of  thirty 
miles  an  hour  against  another  of  equal  weight  that 
is  still,  and  the  still  one  may  move  away  at  the  rate 
of  thirty  miles  an  hour  ;  but  the  first  one  will  have 
become  still.  If  two  such  balls  be  struck  by  the 
one  rolling,  they  will  move  only  fifteen  miles  an 
hour,  and  so  on  for  similar  cases.  Only  so  much 
force  can  be  exerted  as  constituted  the  motion  of 
the  original  ball. 

VITAL    FORCE. 

But  the  case  is  quite  different  with  the  vital  en- 
ergy or  the  principle  known  as  life.  An  acorn  planted 
in  the  earth  grows  into  a  giant  oak,  and  every  year 


TJic  Philosophy  of  Memory.  15 

the  oak  bears  hundreds  of  thousands  of  such  acorns 
as  that  from  which  it  was  itself  produced.  Each  of 
these  in  turn  may  produce  another  oak  hke  the 
parent,  until  in  this  way  millions  and  millions  of 
trees  will  have  been  produced,  every  one  identical  in 
character  with  the  original,  or  parent  oak. 

Countless  millions  of  tons  of  matter  have  been 
arranged  into  the  form  of  trees,  apparently  in  oppo- 
sition to  the  laws  of  gravity,  and  certainly  in  oppo- 
sition to  the  ordinary  laws  of  decay.  The  same  is 
true  for  any  form  of  organic  life  whatever  that  may 
be  chosen  for  experiment  or  observation. 

This  power  of  multiplication  is  then  the  one  thing 
in  which  the  organic  demonstrably  differs  from  the 
inorganic,  the  living  from  the  dead.  In  this,  truly, 
no  man  ' '  can  tell  the  difference  between  the  man 
that  walketh  upright  and  the  beast  that  goeth  down- 
ward toward  the  earth  ;  "  nor,  for  that  matter,  be- 
tween man  and  the  plants  of  the  field. 

SOUL    THE    PRINCIPLE    OF    REPRODUCTION. 

This  principle,  then,  which  determines  multipli- 
cation, which  presides  over  reproduction,  we  may 
denominate  the  soul  or  life.  And  it  is  not  believed 
that  there  is  any  process  of  reasoning  that  will  give 
man  a  soul  that  will  not  accord  a  soul  to  every  liv- 
ing thing,  whether  animal  or  plant. 

Mind,  in  so  far  as  it  can  be  surveyed,  is  merely 
an  accident  of  the  soul,  merely  one  of  its  fruits,  as 
the  body  is  one,  and  no  more  identical  with  it  than 
the  pulp  of  the  peach  is  with  the  mysterious  es- 
sence that  determines  the  production  of  the  tree 
after  its  kind. 


1 6  The  Philosophy  of  Memory. 

Now  if  there  is  a  determining  principle  of  life  in 
every  plant  and  in  every  animal,  that  principle  must 
exist  in  unlimited  extent  in  nature,  or  else  it  must 
be  capable  of  infinite  division  without  impairment. 
If  the  force  employed  in  vital  manifestations  is  a 
modification  of  the  common  forms  of  natural  force, 
it  is  a  modification  like  no  other  that  we  know.  If, 
on  the  other  hand,  it  is  of  a  nature  different  from  the 
common  forms  of  force,  if  it  is  a  separate  and  pecul- 
iar force,  then  we  must  suppose  that  there  exists 
about  us  in  nature  an  unlimited  store  of  this  life 
force  or  energy  out  of  which  souls  may  be  formed. 

Say,  for  example,  we  take  the  case  of  man,  in 
deference  to  those  who  profess  to  believe  that  only 
man  has  a  soul :  we  find  ourselves  soon  at  a  loss  to 
know  how  the  descendants  of  the  first  man,  even  in  the 
next  generation,  could  have  been  possessed  of  a  soul. 

Let  us  assume  that  the  man  of  each  generation 
shall  have  ten  children  out  of  possible  hundreds. 
The  first  of  a  line  would,  after  no  great  lapse  of 
time,  have  millions  of  descendants,  every  one  as 
certainly  possessed  of  a  soul  as  himself.  Likewise, 
if  we  take  the  woman  instead  of  the  man.  That  is 
to  say,  the  original  soul  must  have  been  divided  and 
subdivided,  again  and  again,  into  millions  and  bill- 
ions of  souls,  while  still  leaving  the  ancestral  soul 
untouched  in  its  integrity.  For,  after  the  last  of  the 
children  in  each  family  is  born,  the  parents  still  to 
all  seeming  have  the  same  souls  with  which  they 
were  born,  wholly  unimpaired. 

That  is,  the  parents  live  on  long  after  the  off- 
spring has  been  produced,  with  no  sign  or  symptom 


The  Philosophy  of  Memory.  1/ 

to  show  that  the  parental  soul  has  been  in  the  least 
diminished.  Whoever  can  believe  this  to  be  the 
case ;  whoever  can  believe  that  any  thing  conceiv- 
able can  give  off  of  its  potency  unendingly  without 
diminution,  need  not  trouble  himself  with  science  or 
logic ;  he  can  find  mental  repose  in  believing  what- 
soever most  pleases,  and  save  himself  all  the  labor 
of  investigation. 

We  have,  then,  three  alternatives  of  the  origin 
of  souls  or  the  vital  individualized  energy  : 

First :  A  soul  is  specially  created  for  each  liv- 
ing being,  animal  or  vegetable,  or  at  least  for  each 
human  being,  if  any  will  have  it  so. 

Second :  The  vital  or  soul  energy  or  essence  is 
but  a  transformation  of  the  forms  of  energy  com- 
mon in  the  natural  world. 

Third :  There  is  in  nature  a  store  of  the  par- 
ticular energy  out  of  which  the  soul  is  formed. 

The  notion  of  the  special  creation  of  a  soul  for 
each  individual  that  comes  into  existence  I  must 
leave  for  those  who  think  it  worthy  of  entertain- 
ment. The  fact  that  the  life  energy,  with  its 
apparent  susceptibility  of  infinite  multiplication,  has 
the  power  of  working  contrary  to  and  in  opposi- 
tion to  the  modes  of  the  known  force-forms  in 
nature,  makes  it  inconceivable  that  it  can  be  a  form 
of  the  common  energy. 

It  would  follow,  then,  that  there  exists  in  nature, 
somehow  bound  up  or  mingled  with  its  coarser  ele- 
ments, a  soul-material  or  essence  of  life  that  is 
drawn  upon  for  the  life  principle  of  each  new  being 
that  comes  into  existence. 


The  PJiilosopJiy  of  Mcnioiy. 


IS    ALL    LIFE    ONE  ? 

Has  this  principle  a  separate  form  for  every  dif- 
ferent grade  of  life,  or  does  there  exist  only  one 
principle  which  is  modified  for  each  kind  of  living 
organization,    or  even  for  each  individual  ? 

A  comparison  of  the  various  forms  in  which  life 
presents  itself  leads  almost  unavoidably  to  the  con- 
clusion that  there  is  a  close  relationship,  if  not  sub- 
stantial identity,  between  the  life  principle  in  man 
and  that  of  all  lower  forms  of  living  beings. 

The  cases  in  which  they  respond  in  a  similar 
manner  to  modifying  conditions  are  very  numerous. 

In  the  process  of  growth  all  organic  forms  appro- 
priate and  employ  practically  the  same  chemical 
elements,  and  especially  is  this  true  for  such  parts  as 
may  be  devoted  to  nutrition,  either  of  their  own  tis- 
sues or  those  of  others.  Life,  in  both  plants  and 
animals,  affords  protection  against  decay.  Thus  the 
tree  may  grow  for  a  thousand  years,  resisting  decay, 
even  at  the  heart,  where  apparently  no  cells  capable 
of  destroying  microbes  may  have  existed  for  many 
centuries  ;  and  yet  as  soon  as  it  has  been  deprived 
of  life,  it  at  once,  under  a  continuance  of  the  same 
conditions,  begins  to  decay. 

In  any  forest  during  the  growing  season  may  be 
seen  a  variety  of  reactions  on  the  part  of  the  trees 
against  injuries  by  different  insects.  Thus  one  kind 
of  insect  may  sting  a  leaf  or  bud  on  certain  varieties 
of  trees,  at  the  same  time  depositing  an  e^^g,  and  the 
wounded  part  will  at  once  react  by  producing  a 
"vinegar"  ball  or  excrescence  filled  with  acetic 
acid,  and  in  which  the  &%g  is  inclosed. 


TJic  PJiilosophy  of  Memory.  19 

Around  the  ^^g  of  another  insect  will  be  developed 
a  nutgall  in  which  the  young  will  be  hatched.  The 
Qgg  and  sting  of  still  another  insect  will  cause  the 
twig  or  leaf  of  another  tree  to  react  with  a  puff  ball, 
and  so  on,  until  a  great  variety  of  such  excrescences 
are  produced  ;  but  a  definite  kind  of  growth  will  take 
place  in  the  reaction  against  each  particular  charac- 
ter of  injury. 

And  it  is  not  improbable  that  along  with  these 
excrescences  there  is  developed  in  each  case  a 
distinct  kind  of  antitoxin  to  arrest  the  spread  of  the 
poison  the  sting  of  the  insect  has  conveyed. 

It  is  known  that  the  plant,  like  the  animal,  reacts 
against  injuries,  and  that  a  greater  vigor  of  growth 
will  be  shown  in  their  neighborhood.  Even  the 
repair  material  usually  employed,  like  that  in  ani- 
mals, is  of  a  substance  of  an  exceptionally  low  order 
of  vitality,  namely,  scar  tissues,  such  as  nature 
uses  for  mending  purposes  in  both  classes. 

Wonderful  to  relate,  even  a  tree  or  plant  and  its 
fruit  as  well  will,  when  injured,  suffer  a  real  inflam- 
mation with  rise  of  temperature,  easily  shown  by  the 
thermometer  !     They  have  a  true  fever. 

There  are  species  of  plants  that  entrap  insects 
and  use  them  for  food,  secreting  a  kind  of  gastric 
juice  and  digesting  them  in  the  truest  sense.  Indeed, 
in  man,  as  in  all  other  animals,  the  final  work  of 
digestion  is  done  by  the  leukocyte,  which  is  closely 
related  to  the  protoplasm  in  the  cell  structures  of 
trees. 

Reproduction  in  both  is  carried  on  in  a  way  that 
is  closely  analogous,  the  male   and  female   elements 


20  TJic  Philosophy  of  Memory. 

of  flowers  often  making  apparently  consciously 
intelligent  efforts  to  meet  each  other.  A  vine  whose 
ancestors  for  untold  ages  have  been  climbing  trees 
by  means  of  tendrils  will,  if  placed  by  a  stone  wall 
which  the  tendrils  can  not  grasp,  alter  these  into 
suckers  and  by  their  use  cling  on  to  the  smooth 
stones  for  support.  The  same  albuminoid  proto- 
plasm is  the  prime  factor  in  the  growth  of  both 
plants  and  animals. 

Sensibility  is  a  characteristic  of  all  animals,  but  to 
a  certain  extent  is  possessed  by  plants  also.  The 
power  of  changing  inorganic  into  organic  material 
is  a  vegetable  function  in  the  main,  but  one  that  is 
possessed  in  some  degree  also  by  certain  lower 
animals.  In  short,  animal  and  vegetable  life  are  so 
linked  together  by  intermediate  transitional  forms 
that  no  man  can  positively  tell  where  one  ends  and 
the  other  begins. 

If,  then,  there  is  a  vital  energy,  a  peculiar  soul 
substance,  it  is  in  all  likelihood  closely  related  in  its 
nature  in  all  things  that  multiply,  and  is  modified 
in  some  unknown  way  for  each  species  of  organism. 

THE    NATURE    OF    MIND. 

Having  endeavored  to  set  forth  in  an  intelligible 
way  the  nature  of  the  vital  force  or  the  soul  element, 
we  may  now  pass  to  a  consideration  of  the  nature 
of  mind. 

By  many  this  has  been  regarded  as  a  separate 
entity,  the  immortal  part  of  man,  an  idea  we  have 
preferred  to  attempt  to  convey  by  the  term  soul. 
Mind  is  defined  as  that  which  perceives,  thinks,  feels, 


TJlc  PhilosopJiy  of  Memory.  21 

judges,  desires,  and  wills.  If  mind,  then,  is  to  be 
defined  as  such  only  when  in  action,  what  is  to  be 
said  of  it  in  the  yet  unborn,  the  comatose,  the  pro- 
foundly sleeping  ?  If,  however,  we  consider  mind  as 
nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  function,  no  other  than 
a  recognition  by  consciousness  of  the  play  of  certain 
physical  forces  on  the  soul  and  the  soul's  reaction 
in  response  to  them,  we  give  it  a  character  that  does 
not  necessitate  the  existence  of  two  separate,  intan- 
gible entities  in  the  same  individual. 

We  may  then  consider  the  vital  force  that  builds 
up  the  new  being  after  certain  definite  and  logical 
patterns  as  the  entity  which,  when  rightly  played 
upon  by  certain  forms  of  the  common  force  of  nature, 
or  it  may  be  when  rightly  ministered  to  by  them,  gives 
out  the  phenomena  we  call  mental  in  the  same 
orderly  way  that  it  builds  up  the  bodily  structure  of 
the  individual.  It  has  been  poetically  said  that 
creatures  are  the  thoughts  of  God.  But  under  this 
postulate  it  may  be  literally  said  that  all  organic 
forms,  as  well  as  ideas  or  mental  images,  are  thought 
forms. 

The  highest  and  most  perfect  examples  of  soul 
work  are  done  without  consciousness,  done  before 
consciousness  passes  on  them.  In  an  intellectual 
way,  to  him  who  is  known  as  the  genius  comes  the 
richest  product  of  intellectual  activity,  ready  formed, 
and  often  just  in  all  its  logical  relations.  And  if  we 
but  closely  observe  we  will  find  that  the  great  mass 
of  our  thoughts,  well  up  into  consciousness  already 
formed,  spring  up  out  of  the  brain's  secret  chambers 
as  plants  out  of  the  ground. 


22  The  PliilosopJiy  of  Mcniojy. 

Who  can  trace  the  wonderful  steps  in  the  de- 
velopment of  the  embryo  and  doubt  that  an  in- 
dwelhng  inteUigence  unknown  to  consciousness 
directs  the  consecutive  changes  as  evidently  as 
conscious  or  unconscious  thoughts  do  the  liter- 
ary gem,  whether  the  finished  poem  or  the  sym- 
metrical and  harmonious  oration. 

THOUGHTS    AND    THINGS. 

We  may  perceive  something  like  the  same  logic 
of  movement,  the  same  sequence  of  development, 
and  their  resultant  groupings  in  inorganic  elements  ; 
and  what  is  more,  they  present  themselves  almost 
invariably  in  forms  agreeable  to  our  minds.  The 
well-known   example  of   the  formation   of   definite 

\  figures  by  placing  dust  particles  on  a  tense  mem- 
brane and  setting  it  in  vibration  by  means  of 
musical  notes  is  a  case  in  point ;  likewise  the  ar- 
rangement  of  particles  of  iron  in  the  magnetic  field. 
Every  one  has  noticed  how  frost  flowers  are  formed 

"^  on  window  panes  when  the  weather  is  cold.  Their 
harmony  seems  as  complete  and  their  proportion 
as  apt  as  if  they  were  intelligently  designed. 

The  lesson  to  be  drawn  from  these  facts  is  that 
there  runs  through  nature  a  tendency  to  analogous 
groupings  of  the  molecules  of  matter,  indicating 
the  tendencies  of  force,  and  that  these  groupings 
find  in  our  thoughts  a  response  and   an  approval 

'^  which  goes  to  show  that  the  laws  of  thought  and 
those  of  the  tendencies  of  vital  or  soul  force,  as  well 
as  the  natural  forces,  are  similar  ;  that  the  flower 
appears  beautiful  to  us  because  it  is  constructed  on  a 


The  Philosophy  of  Memory.  23 

plan  that  finds  a  response  in  the  constitution  of  our 
minds  ;  and  that  it  is  such  as  we  would  have  created 
it  had  we  creative  powers.  It  appears  beautiful  be- 
cause the  thought  is  akin  to  the  thing. 

Furthermore,  it  is  highly  probable  that  there  are 
certain  susceptibilities  and  tendencies  in  particular 
kinds  of  atoms  or  molecules  of  matter  that  make 
them  responsive  to  the  affinities  of  vital  forces,  other- 
wise they  could  not  be  built  up  into  organic  forms. 
We  find  certain  kinds  of  material  atoms,  for  instance, 
responding  to  and  attracted  by  the  magnet,  yet  we 
know  that  the  atoms  thus  affected  must  have  just  as 
much  affinity  for  the  magnet  as  the  magnet  has  for 
them. 

Only  a  small  part  of  the  many  kinds  of  chemical 
elements  is  capable  of  being  built  up  into  animal  and 
vegetable  forms,  and  we  may  rationally  conclude 
that  only  these  elements  or  the  forces  that  cluster 
around  them  have  such  affinity  for  the  vital  force  as 
will  allow  it  to  use  them. 

Oxygen,  hydrogen,  carbon,  nitrogen,  sulphur, 
iron,  and  phosphorus  mostly  constitute  the  bioplasm 
of  animals  and  plants  alike. 

But  really  the  conditions  do  not  seem  fully  satis- 
fied except  by  the  supposition  that  there  exists  in 
nature  a  peculiar  class  of  vital  atoms  —  atoms  around 
which  gathers  the  vital  force,  as  the  common  force 
or  energy  gathers  about  the  coarser  atoms  of  ordi- 
nary matter,  and,  furthermore,  that  these  are  endowed 
with  separate  sexual  tendencies. 


24  TJif  PhilosopJiy  of  Memory. 


CHARACTERISTICS    OF    FORCE. 

Force  is  defined  as  the  measure  of  the  tendency 
of  energy  to  transform  itself.  It  might  be  defined 
more  simply  as  that  which  produces  motion  or  pres- 
sure, but  motion  itself  is  force.  All  forms  of  force 
have  now  come  to  be  regarded  as  interchangeable 
into  each  other,  being  simply  different  modes  of 
motion. 

It  is  probably  not  too  much  to  claim,  also,  that  all 
force  or  all  manifestations  of  energy  can  in  the  final 
analysis  be  rightly  regarded  as  resolvable  into  undu- 
lations. This  seems  to  be  implied  in  the  assump- 
tion that  action  and  reaction  are  equal.  In  most  of 
the  manifestations  of  energy  this  fact  has  been  dem- 
onstrated. 

In  others,  though  assumed,  it  is  not  only  not 
demonstrated  but  difficult  to  comprehend.  It  is 
difficult  to  realize  vibrations  in  stored  electricity,  in 
chemical  affinity,  in  gravity,  or  in  the  motion  of  a 
mass,  as  of  a  cannon  ball  or  a  planet.  But  when 
these  forces  are  changed  into  other  forms  they 
become  vibratory,  or  rather  manifest  vibration  ;  as 
when,  for  instance,  a  cannon  ball  strikes  the  steel 
armor  of  a  ship  and  its  mass  motion  is  changed  into 
heat,  light,  and  electricity. 

When  the  powder  in  the  cannon  was  exploded 
the  chemical  affinity  of  its  elements  became  heat, 
and  expanded  the  gas  thereby  produced,  which  set 
the  ball  in  motion.  The  vibrations  of  heat  became 
the  motion  of  the  ball,  and  were  seemingly  lost,  or 
disappeared.     But  when  the  ball  struck  the  ship's 


TJic  Philosophy  of  Memory.  25 

armor  some  of  its  molecules  were  driven  too  close 
together  and  they  sprung  apart,  and  then  back  and 
forth,  thus  reviving  the  vibrations  the  ball  started 
with.  Again,  there  were  other  parts  of  the  ball  at 
the  sides  that  were  stopped  before  reaching  the 
plates,  and  the  atoms  of  these  parts  were  strained 
in  the  tendency  to  keep  moving  on,  and  then,  being 
pulled  back  by  cohesion,  were  set  to  vibrating. 

Thus  when  we  come  to  fully  understand,  probably 
all  motion  and  all  force  can  be  resolved  into  undula- 
tions. But  can  we  conceive  that  the  motion  of  the 
ball  in  mass  is  vibratory  ;  can  we  translate  it  into 
vibrations  ? 

Take  a  dozen  billiard  balls  and  let  them  swing  as 
pendulums  in  a  line.  Now  let  them  at  the  point  of 
highest  speed  strike  all  at  once,  and  with  a  force 
equal  to  their  momentum,  a  bar  which,  after  travers- 
ing one  foot,  shall  in  turn  strike  all  at  once  a  dozen 
other  balls  of  equal  weight  hanging  in  line. 

Now  the  first  dozen  will  become  still,  and  the 
second  dozen  will  be  set  to  vibrating  just  as  the  first 
were  vibrating  before.  But  the  bar,  while  moving, 
was  seemingly  not  vibrating. 

So  the  powder,  when  exploded  in  the  cannon, 
began  changing  its  chemical  affinity  into  the  form  of 
vibrations  known  as  heat.  These  vibrations  began 
to  be  communicated  to  the  atoms  of  the  ball,  and  a 
majority  of  them  in  the  only  direction  the  ball  could 
move,  that  is,  toward  the  mouth  of  the  cannon. 
Now  so  many  of  these  atoms  entered  at  the  same 
time  and  in  the  same  direction  into  the  maximum 
positive  elongation,  that  is,  the  swing  or  the  excursion 


26  TJw  Philosophy  of  JMeniory. 

away  from  the  powder,  that  the  ball  was  carried 
away  in  mass.  That  is  to  say,  the  vibration  of  a 
majorit}'  of  the  atoms  in  one  direction  became 
motion  of  the  mass  in  that  direction.  By  this  mass 
movement  the  vibrations  were  stopped  when  only 
half  made,  that  is,  when  only  half  a  period  had  been 
completed.  The  other  half  will  be  completed  when 
the  ball  strikes  the  armor  of  a  ship  or  any  thing  else 
and  has  its  motion  arrested  ;  or  never,  if  its  motion 
is  never  arrested. 

VIBRATIONS    HIDDEN    IN    MASS    MOTION. 

In  the  mass  motion  of  the  ball  is  therefore  hidden 
away  one  half  of  every  heat  and  every  light  vibra- 
tion that  will  be  developed  when  it  is  arrested. 
Even  the  earth  is  carried  through  space,  its  motion 
being  one  half  of  all  the  heat  and  light  vibrations 
that  would  appear  if  it  should  strike  the  sun  or  the 
largest  fixed  star.  So  then,  probably,  there  is  no 
movement  whatever  that  is  not  resolvable  into 
vibrations  and  that  would  not  be  so  resolved  if  the 
capacity  of  our  minds  were  equal  to  a  sufficiently 
refined  analysis.  It  might  be  added  that  if  all  the 
atomic  vibrations  due  to  the  explosion  of  the  powder 
in  the  cannon  were  to  take  place  in  the  one  direc- 
tion, at  the  same  time,  and  could  be  taken  at  the 
same  phase  of  their  period,  the  ball  would  move 
away  with  nearly  the  speed  of  light. 

The  chief  aim  in  this  investigation  of  the  nature 
of  force  has  been  to  lead  up  to  a  just  understanding 
of  the  extent  and  character  of  undulatory  or  vibra- 
tory motion,   for  upon  this  is  to  be  based  the  at- 


The  Philosophy  of  Memory.  27 

tempted  solution  herein  offered  of  some  of  the  most 
interesting  of  the  problems  of  mind. 

What  needs  now  to  be  proved  is  that  it  is  char- 
acteristic of  all  forms  of  undulatory  or  vibratory 
motion  that  with  time  and  distance  the  waves  or 
vibrations  increase  in  amplitude  and  decrease  in 
intensity  ;  and  that  this  is  probably  the  rule  with  the 
vibrations  that  result  in  the  phenomena  of  mind. 

This  is  easy  to  observe  in  the  case  of  waves  on 
bodies  of  water.  Just  behind  the  wheels  of  a  steamer 
the  waves  are  high  and  rapidly  follow  each  other. 
As  they  go  farther  away  they  become  longer  and 
slower,  and  before  disappearing  they  become  widely 
separated,  gentle  swells.  This  has  been  found  true 
also  with  earthquake  shocks.  Near  the  site  of  the 
disturbance  the  vibrations  will  be  found  rapid  and 
violent.  Farther  away  fewer  will  pass  a  particular 
station  in  a  given  length  of  time,  and  these  will  be 
found  much  gentler  in  character. 

We  have  seen  that  in  water  waves,  as  in  earth 
tremors,  increase  of  amplitude  keeps  pace  with 
decrease  of  intensity  as  the  wave  progresses. 
With  sound  waves,  however,  this  is  not  by  any  means 
so  obvious,  for,  as  in  the  case  of  light,  the  wave  length 
is  said  to  be  not  increased  with  the  progress  of  sound, 
and  not  to  grow  slower.  The  pitch  or  vibration  fre- 
quency remains  the  same,  whatever  the  distance  the 
sound  is  heard.  The  distance  over  which  the  sound 
will  pass  in  a  given  time,  say  one  second,  is  constant 
for  the  same  medium  at  the  same  temperature. 


28  The  Fliilasophy  of  Memory. 


LIGHT  VIHKATIONS    CONSTANT. 

We  shall  find  in  the  case  of  light  that  all  vibra- 
tions are  believed  to  travel  at  the  same  rate,  but 
with  sound  the  long  vibrations  travel  faster  than  the 
shorter  ones,  and  a  loud  sound  that  consists  of  long 
vibrations  will  travel  faster  than  a  low  one.  So  much 
is  this  the  case  that  in  the  polar  regions  the  report 
of  a  gun  may  first  be  heard  by  a  distant  observer 
and  afterward  the  command  of  the  officer  to  fire. 

The  length  of  a  sound  wave  will  also  be  dimin- 
ished while  passing  from  a  rarer  medium  into  a 
denser  one.  But  in  all  this  we  have  found  nothing 
by  which  we  may  indicate  the  distance  the  sound 
has  come.  What  is  it,  then,  in  the  nature  of  sound 
that  enables  us  to  distinguish  whether  it  comes  from 
a  point  nearb}'  or  one  farther  away .''  As  long  as  it 
moves  through  the  same  medium  we  have  learned 
that  there  is  no  change  in  the  speed  of  sound,  which 
is  the  product  of  the  wave  length  by  the  vibration 
frequency,  and  none  in  the  pitch,  which  directly 
relates  to  the  wave  length  ;  and  yet  a  distinct  charac- 
teristic is  imparted  to  sound  by  distance. 

There  remains,  then,  so  far  as  we  now  can  ascer- 
tain, only  an  undefined  quality  of  sound  by  which 
we  can  distinguish  whether  it  comes  from  a  near 
point  or  one  farther  away.  Quality  is  the  name 
given  to  the  impression  produced  on  the  ear  by 
sound  when  it  is  complex  ;  and  it  may  be  that  such 
complexity  takes  on  a  different  character  at  a  distant 
point  from  the  source  of  the  sound  and  at  a  near 
point ;  but  this  remains  to  be  demonstrated. 


TJie  PhilosopJiy  of  ]\icniory.  29 

Still  for  all  this,  every  one  knows  that  as  a  rule 
there  is  a  peculiar  quality  attached  to  sound  that 
enables  him  to  form  some  notion,  usually  a  fairly 
correct  one,  as  to  the  distance  it  has  come.  Further- 
more, that  quality  can  be  voluntarily  imitated,  so 
that  the  sound  of  a  voice  may  be  made  to  seem  to 
come  from  a  distance,  even  when  it  is  near. 

One  who  has  listened  to  the  hunter's  horn,  or  the 
baying  of  the  hounds  in  the  chase,  knows  that  inde- 
pendently of  their  moving,  independently  of  any 
lengthening  or  shortening  of  vibrations  depending 
upon  their  coming  nearer  or  going  farther  away,  he 
can  form  a  fair  judgment  as  to  whether  the  chase 
approaches  or  recedes.  In  the  battle,  the  share  that 
each  rifle  contributes  to  the  rattling  noise  is  instan- 
taneous, the  length  of  sound  wave  does  not  depend 
upon  the  movement  of  the  gun  farther  or  nearer 
while  the  sound  is  in  the  making,  and  yet  the  general, 
from  his  distant  view  point,  can  tell  from  the  charac- 
ter of  the  sound  whether  victory  or  defeat  is  the 
promise  ;  can  tell  who  advances  and  who  retreats. 
Can  it  be  that  the  slight  peculiarity  we  call  quality 
or  complexity  is  the  only  thing  upon  which  our 
judgment  is  formed,  the  only  mark  upon  which  we 
can  base  a  distinction  ? 

The  waves  of  light  in  some  respects  resemble 
water  waves,  and  in  others  the  waves  of  sound.  The 
transversal  waves  of  light  resemble  the  circular 
waves  of  water,  since  in  both  the  wave  consists  of 
a  portion  raised  above  the  normal  level  and  called 
the  crest,  and  of  a  portion  depressed  below  it,  called 
the  trough.      But  instead  of  the  waves  of  light  gain- 


30  TJic  Philosophy  of  Memory. 

ing  in  amplitude  and  losing  in  intensity  as  do  those 
of  water,  the  teaching  is  that  they  remain  the  same 
in  their  progress  through  all  distance. 

The  speed  in  vacuo  of  all  light  waves  is  believed 
to  be  the  same,  no  matter  what  the  wave  length 
may  be.  If  this  were  not  the  fact,  then,  inasmuch 
as  the  light  of  different  wave  lengths  is  different  in 
color,  it  is  evident  that  one  of  the  satellites  of  Ju- 
piter, for  example,  on  reappearing  from  behind  the 
planet  after  an  eclipse,  would  be  seen  first  of  the 
color  which  traveled  fastest,  the  other  colors  sub- 
sequently appearing.  Nothing  of  this  sort  being 
perceptible,  the  inference  is  that  in  space  all  waves 
have  the  same  speed,  whatever  their  length.  Thus 
the  light  that  left  far  away  suns,  even  thousands  of 
years  ago,  as  ultra  red,  the  slowest  of  ether  vibra- 
tions that  the  eye  can  distinguish,  has  all  that  time 
been  traveling  with  a  vibration  frequency  of  370 
million  millions  per  second.  Likewise  the  violet, 
the  most  rapid  that  can  be  seen,  has  kept  all  the 
time  its  pace  of  739  million  million  vibrations  per 
second  with  which  it  now  meets  our  vision. 

Is  there  no  point,  then,  in  all  infinity  that  the 
waves  of  light  reach,  travel  worn  ?  Without  slack- 
ening their  pace,  do  they  move  on  and  on  forever  ? 
Through  the  ether,  yes,  as  far  as  we  know.  But 
when  entangled  with  matter  there  sometimes  comes 
a  change,  a  slowing,  but  not  a  progressive  slowing. 
Thus  the  ultra  violet,  which  moves  through  the  ether 
of  space  with  a  vibration  frequency  of  833  million 
millions  per  second,  if  caused  to  enter  a  solution  of 
quinine,  will  be  given  out  blue  or  violet  with  a  less 


The  Philosophy  of  Memory.  31 

wave  frequency.  Or  it  may,  on  passing  through 
other  substances,  be  given  out  in  several  different 
wave  frequencies  ;  or  still  again,  taken  up  by  de- 
caying wood  or  otherwise  becoming  phosphorescent, 
it  may  give  out  all  the  wave  frequencies  that  affect 
vision  ;  that  is,  it  will  have  been  changed  into  white 
light. 

Therefore,  although  the  view  that  some  change 
comes  over  the  waves  of  light  on  their  journey 
through  space  is  very  weakly  supported,  even  by 
inference,  analogy  still  furnishes  it  a  modified  sup- 
port. And  just  as  we  found  that  sound  gives  some 
indication  of  the  distance  it  has  come  by  a  means 
which  science  has  not  clearly  made  out,  so  may 
light  come  from  its  far-away  source  with  some 
quality  that  enables  our  judgment,  acting  all  un- 
consciously, to  recognize  the  fact  —  to  form  a  dim 
conception  of  the  length  of  its  journey. 

For  even  accepting  as  final  truth  all  that  has  been 
adduced,  the  proof  would  not  be  conclusive  that  the 
vibrations  of  light  do  not  become  altered  as  they 
travel  through  space,  only  that  all  vibrations  become 
altered  in  equal  degree.  It  can  hardly  be  that  the 
ether  is  absolutely  elastic,  which  it  must  be  if  each 
kind  of  light  goes  on  the  same  forever.  It  is  more 
than  possible,  then,  that  the  waves  of  light  do  increase 
in  amplitude  and  diminish  in  intensity  with  distance, 
and  that  violet  light  might  somewhere  in  its  journey- 
ing through  the  universe  become  red  or  some  of  the 
other  colors  of  wave  length  longer  than  its  own. 

But  even  if  this  be  not  the  case,  even  if  the  pace 
of  light  through  the  pure  ether  is  forever  the  same, 


32  TJie  Philosophy  of  Memory. 

it  does  no  violence  to  science  to  assume  that,  when 
light  has  become  the  energy  stored  in  fruit  and  leaf, 
it  takes  on  a  character  akin  to  the  water  wave  and 
the  sound  effect  into  which  it  can  be  transformed. 
This  admission  does  not,  however,  preclude  us  from 
seeking  to  discover  that  in  some  way  the  waves  of 
light  are  affected  as  they  journey  through  space,  and 
that  if  we  had  a  perception  as  much  finer  for  light 
as  light  is  more  subtle  than  sound,  we  might  still 
perceive  this  altered  action. 

This  may  even  now  be  accomplished,  either  by 
refined  impression  on  the  subconscious  intelligence 
or  by  its  acting  in  a  coarser  way,  that  is,  while  in  a 
process  of  transformation  into  other  forms  of  force. 
For  later  we  shall  have  occasion  to  inquire  whether 
mind  is  not  influenced  by  the  forces  given  out  in  the 
metamorphoses  of  nutrition,  and  whether  food  in  its 
retrograde  changes  does  not  give  out  in  kind  the 
forces  that  were  employed  in  building  it  up. 


-1^ 


MEMORY    AND    THE    BRAIN. 


Having  thus  briefly  set  forth  the  nature  and  the 
extent  of  the  involvement  of  vibration  in  all  mani- 
festations of  the  common  force,  we  may  now  pro- 
ceed to  consider  the  nature  of  mental  or  brain  activ- 
ities, with  a  view  to  ascertaining  what  analogies 
exist  between  them  and  the  force-manifestations  of 
external  nature. 

Memory  has  been  authoritatively  defined  as  the 
faculty  of  the  mind  by  which  it  retains  the  knowl- 
edge of  previous  thoughts  or  events.  The  faculty 
may  manifest  itself  in  at  least  three  different  forms  : 


TJie  PJiilosophy  of  Memory.  33 

first,  in  the  persistence  in  consciousness  of  impres- 
sions made  upon  the  mind  or  by  spontaneous  recur- 
rence of  these  impressions  in  consciousness,  when  it 
is  called  remembrance  ;  secondly,  in  the  recall  of 
past  impressions  by  distinct  effort,  when  it  is  called 
recollection  ;  thirdly,  in  a  form  intermediate  between 
these  two,  by  a  conscious  process  of  recalling  past 
occurrences,  but  without  full  and  varied  reference 
to  particular  things,  when  it  is  called  reminiscence. 

In  this  essay,  however,  it  is  not  proposed  to 
restrict  the  term  memory  merely  to  the  retaining  or 
recalling  of  previous  thoughts  and  other  products  of 
brain  activity,  but  also  to  embrace  the  method  or 
mechanism  of  their  retention  and  reproduction  or 
reappearance  in  consciousness.  In  the  fullest  sense 
memory  may  be  regarded  as  the  persistence  in  the 
brain  cells  of  all  the  accumulations  of  sensations  and 
perceptions  in  the  form  of  ideas,  emotions,  and  the 
like,  together  with  their  susceptibility  of  being- 
brought  up  from  time  to  time  in  such  a  way  as  to 
be  recognized  in  consciousness. 

But  before  entering  upon  a  consideration  of  such 
of  the  functions  of  the  brain  as  we  shall  be  here 
concerned  with,  it  is  indispensable  to  any  satisfactory 
understanding  of  the  subject  that  we  study,  at  least 
in  their  relations,  the  different  parts  entering  into  the 
structure  of  the  brain  that  are  concerned  in  mentation. 

STRUCTURE    OF    THE    BRAIN. 

The  brain,  or  that  part  of  the  cerebro-spinal  nervous 
system  immediately  concerned  in  conscious  intellect- 
ual activity,  consists  of  three  divisions  independent 


34  ^/^^  Philosophy  of  Memory. 

one  of  another,  and  yet  very  intimately  bound 
together.  These  divisions  are  the  cerebrum,  the 
cerebellum,  and  the  medulla.  Of  these,  the  cere- 
brum alone  is  the  seat  of  conscious  thought-activity 
or  mentation,  and  for  the  purposes  of  this  inquiry  the 
others  need  not  be  included. 

The  cerebrum  or  fore-brain  consists  of  two  lobes 
or  hemispheres,  the  one  almost  exactly  and  in  every 
respect  the  counterpart  of  the  other,  connected 
with  one  another  by  a  great  number  of  white  fibers. 
These  white  fibers  connect  every  part  in  each  hemis- 
phere with  the  like  part  in  the  other  hemisphere,  so 
that  the  two  lobes  constitute  a  veritable  twin  sys- 
tem. 

Each  cerebral  lobe  consists  of  masses  of  gray 
matter  and  closely  laid  bundles  of  white  connecting 
fibers.  The  masses  of  gray  matter  are  composed 
of  vast  numbers  of  cells  arranged  on  the  outer  sur- 
face of  the  brain  in  the  form  of  a  thin  convoluted 
layer,  which  constitutes  the  cortex,  and  of  other 
cells  in  the  central  position,  arranged  in  the  form  of 
two  gray  masses  or  ganglions  on  each  side,  which 
are  coupled  together  and  form  the  gray  substance  of 
the  optic  thalamus  and  corpus  .striatum. 

The  white  substance,  which  consists  mainly  of 
nerve  tubules,  fills  the  space  between  the  outer  gray 
mass  and  the  central  ganglions.  These  fibers  partly 
radiate  like  the  spokes  of  a  wheel  from  the  gray 
matter  of  the  central  ganglions  to  that  of  the  brain 
surface,  and  partly  pass  across  from  one  hemisphere 
to  the  other,  connecting  like  parts  of  the  two  halves 
of  the  brain ;   and   partly  pass    out   to    the   general 


TJie  Philosophy  of  Memory.  35 

bodily  system,  to  carry  motor  impulses  or  to  bring 
back  sensations.  These  white  fibers  are  constructed 
almost  exactly  on  the  plan  of  insulated  telegraph 
wires  or  cables.  There  is  first  a  central  core  of  albu- 
minoid material,  which  conducts  nerve  force  and 
corresponds  to  the  copper  wire.  Over  this  is  a 
layer  of  fatty  material,  which  is  a  non-conductor  of 
nervous  force,  and  corresponds  to  the  non-con- 
ducting sheathing  of  the  electric  wire  or  cable  ;  and 
still  outside  of  this  is  a  protective  sheath  of  con- 
nective tissue  answering  to  the  outer  protecting 
sheath  of  the  cable. 

The  gray  matter  is  made  up  mostly  of  cells  held 
together  by  a  network  of  connective  tissue.  These 
cells  are  small  at  and  near  the  surface  of  the  brain, 
getting  larger  toward  the  central  parts  of  it.  They 
also  differ  much  in  shape  in  different  situations. 

The  larger  cells,  which  have  the  most  irregular 
shape,  have  prolongations  proceeding  from  them 
which  connect  and  become  continuous  with  the  cen- 
tral axis  cylinder  of  the  white  nerve  filaments. 

Of  these  connecting  prolongations,  some  of  the 
larger  cells  have  as  many  as  seven  or  eight  proceed- 
ing from  them,  some  have  but  one  or  two,  while 
many  of  the  smaller  ones  have  none,  though  curi- 
ously enough  on  occasion  they  will  project  elonga- 
tions of  their  own  bodies  to  form  connecting  fila- 
ments, as  a  leukocyte  or  white  blood  cell  might  do. 

The  optic  thalamus  is  an  ovoid  mass  of  gray 
matter  situated  almost  exactly  in  the  center  of  the 
brain.  It  is  made  up  of  a  series  of  ganglions  ranged 
one  behind  the  other,  and  two  slender  bands  of  gray 


36  J'hc  PhilosopJiy  of  Memory. 

material  extending  down  to  and  being  continuous 
with  the  gray  matter  of  the  spinal  cord.  These 
ganglions  of  the  optic  thalamus  receive  the  connect- 
ing nerve  filaments  from  all  directions,  both  from 
the  cerebrum  and  the  cerebellum,  and  the  general 
system,  through  the  medulla.  It  is  the  clearing- 
house, the  switch-board,  the  distributing  point  of 
the  entire  sensory  nervous  system. 

In  front  of  the  optic  thalamus  and  closely  con- 
nected with  it  is  the  corpus  striatum,  made  up  of 
gray  matter  largely  and  forming  the  gateway  through 
which  must  pass  the  nerve  fibers  that  carry  motor 
impulses  from  the  brain  to  the  rest  of  the  body. 

FUNCTIONS  OF  CELLS  AND  CONDUCTING  FIBERS. 

As  bearing  on  the  investigation  with  which  we  are 
directly  concerned,  it  remains  to  point  out  in  a  brief 
way  the  functions  of  the  several  parts  of  the  brain 
immediately  connected  with  thought  activity. 

Of  the  functions  of  the  cortical  cells,  or  those  on 
the  outer  surface  of  the  cerebral  hemisphere,  it  is 
known  that  some  are  engaged  in  elaborating  motor 
impulses,  some  in  the  production  of  an  electric  cur- 
rent, others  nerve  force,  and  still  others  thought. 
Doubtless  if  we  shall  ever  attain  to  a  full  knowledge 
of  all  the  diversified  work  that  is  done  by  the  brain 
cells,  it  will  be  found  almost  infinitely  complex  and 
infinitely  differentiated. 

It  is  probable  that  the  optic  thalamus  is  employed 
in  receiving  sensations  from  all  parts  of  the  body, 
sorting  them  out  and  distributing  them  to  the  various 
cells  of  the  cortical  layer  to  which  they  appertain. 


The  Philosophy  of  Memory.  37 

The  office  of  the  optic  thalamus,  as  indicated  already 
when  speaking  of  its  anatomy,  was  fairly  then 
described  as  in  most  respects  comparable  to  a  switch- 
board in  a  telephone  exchange.  To  complete  the 
illustration,  however,  the  aid  of  the  corpus  striatum 
should  also  be  invoked,  for  it  is  to  the  motor  vibra- 
tions largely  what  the  optic  thalamus  is  to  the  sensory. 

The  corpus  striatum  has  for  its  office  the  sending 
out  to  the  various  muscles  the  motor  impulses  that 
are  received  by  it  from  the  motor  cells  in  the  cortex, 
an  office  relatively  of  the  same  character  but  appar- 
ently much  less  complex  than  that  of  the  optic  thala- 
mus. We  have  thus  in  a  very  imperfect  manner 
mapped  out  and  described  that  part  of  the  brain 
which  constitutes  the  field  of  mental  operations  as 
a  tangible  stage  upon  which  the  imagination  may 
watch  the  play  of  the  wonderful  actors  in  the  drama 
of  thought. 

Hitherto  no  connection  has  been  made  out  be- 
tween the  extremities  of  the  motor  nerves  and  the 
nerves  of  nutrition,  which  carry  the  outward  cur- 
rent, and  the  sensory  nerves,  which  carry  the  nerve 
current  inwardly.  It  is  certain,  however,  that  an 
electric  current  is  always  going  out  on  the  motor 
nerves  and  returning  on  the  nerves  of  sensation, 
and  it  is  more  than  probable  that  as  long  as  life 
lasts  the  circuit  is  completed  by  the  tissues,  and 
that  a  current  of  nerve  force  is  continuously  making 
the  round  of  every  nerve  circuit,  whether  within 
the  brain  or  in  the  general  system. 

By  means  of  this  arrangement  an  impression 
upon  or  a  discharge  of    nerve  force  from  any  one 


38  The  Philosophy  of  Memory, 

cell  may  almost  immediately  extend  to  and  affect 
many  others,  since  nearly  every  cell  in  the  gray 
matter  of  the  brain  and  cord  is  connected  either 
directly  or  indirectly  with  all  the  others.  This  de- 
scription of  the  brain  and  its  functions,  though 
necessarily  brief  and  defective,  may  yet  serve  to 
give  a  character  of  order  and  cohesion  to  the  reflec- 
tions that  are  to  follow. 

Utilizing  all  the  principles  set  forth  in  the  pre- 
liminary discussion  in  so  far  as  they  may  be  made 
available,  we  may  now  proceed  to  ascertain,  if  pos- 
sible, in  what  way  and  in  what  form  mental  impres- 
sions are  preserved  in  the  cells  of  the  brain,  and  in 
what  manner  they  are  from  time  to  time  brought  into 
consciousness.  We  will  try  to  ascertain  what  ap- 
pearance memory  or  the  contents  of  mind  has  in 
its  secret  home,  even  though  the  best  solution  we 
may  hope  to  attain  may  still  be  regarded  as  largely 
hypothetical  if  not  fanciful. 

MECHANICAL    THEORIES    OF    MEMORY. 

Before  attempting  an  explanation  of  organic 
memory,  we  must  note  certain  phenomena  that 
have  been  compared  to  it  by  way  of  illustration. 
Authors  have  found  analogies  for  memory  in  the 
organic  world,  and  particularly  in  that  property 
possessed  by  light  vibrations,  whereby  they  may  be 
stored  up  on  sheets  of  paper  or  other  material  and 
there  preserved  for  longer  or  shorter  periods  in  the 
form  of  latent  vibrations,  to  reappear  at  the  sum- 
mons of  a  developing  agent. 


TJic  Philosophy  of  Memory .  39 

Engravings  exposed  to  the  sun's  rays  and  then 
kept  in  a  dark  place  can  months  afterward,  by  the 
aid  of  appropriate  reagents,  be  made  to  yield  per- 
sistent traces  of  the  photographic  action  of  the  sun 
upon  their  surface.  Again,  if  a  key  or  other  like 
object  be  laid  upon  a  sheet  of  white  paper,  and  the 
two  be  exposed  to  the  direct  rays  of  the  sun,  and 
then  the  paper  be  laid  away  in  a  drawer,  years 
afterward  the  spectral  image  of  the  key  will  still  be 
visible. 

In  these  examples  we  have  to  do  with  but  a  single 
condition  or  element  of  memory,  namely,  the  reten- 
tion of  the  impressions.  Furthermore,  this  retention 
of  impressions  is  only  in  a  passive  form.  The  inces- 
sant changes,  the  endless  disappearances  and  reap- 
pearances of  the  contents  of  memory,  have  here  no 
parallel.  If  one's  ideas  and  other  mental  furniture 
are  simply  photographs,  merely  dead  images,  how 
are  they  to  be  awakened  into  renewed  activity.'' 
Above  all,  how  are  they  spontaneously  to  awaken  one 
another.''  We  may  go  on  hour  after  hour  with  a 
vivid  train  of  thought,  with  all  our  senses  completely 
closed  to  excitations  from  without,  thoughts,  ideas, 
and  emotions  in  an  endless  train  arousing  one  another. 
Mere  dead  pictures  could  not  act  in  this  way.  Pho- 
tographs may  be  heaped  mountain  high,  but  they 
could  no  more  awaken  each  other  than  could  the 
unused  plates  upon  which  they  have  been  impressed. 
Even  though  it  may  be  that  the  dead  can  bury  their 
dead,  we  may  rest  assured  that  the  dead  can  never 
awaken  their  dead. 


40  TItc  PJtilosopJiy  of  Mnnory. 


MEMORY    AN    ACTIVE    PROCESS. 

That  which  produces  images  in  the  mind,  perpet- 
uates in  an  active  form  the  contents  of  the  mind, 
must  therefore  consist  of  elements  constantly  in 
motion  —  of  virtually  living  essences. 

It  might  be  assumed  that  the  intercellular  forces 
that  have  been  described  have  something  of  the 
character  of  the  cable  car,  where  the  cable  is  con- 
stantly in  motion  and  the  load  of  the  car  added  to 
from  time  to  time  at  proper  stations  ;  or  still  more 
like  transmission  by  telephone,  where  the  current  is 
continuously  active,  but  is  modified  into  intelligible 
manifestations  of  force  by  the  vibrations  of  the 
diaphrani.  The  currents  of  force  among  the  brain 
cells  are  supposed  never  to  cease  as  long  as  the  life 
of  the  individual  lasts. 

It  is,  however,  only  a  crude  parallel  to  the  opera- 
tion of  mental  forces  that  we  may  find  among 
mechanical  contrivances.  We  will  endeavor,  then,  to 
find  what  relation  the  elements  of  memory  in  their 
behavior  bear  to  the  common  forms  of  force  as 
exhibited  in  undulatory  motion.  It  has  already  been 
shown  that  we  know  nothing  of  force  except  as  a 
mode  of  motion,  and  that  motion  in  all  cases  appears 
to  take  the  form,  potentially  at  least,  of  vibrations 
or  undulations  ;  and  that  since  it  is  a  necessity  of 
thought  that  action  and  reaction  are  equal,  it  is 
impossible  to  separate  the  notion  of  undulatory 
movement  from  the  action  of  force. 

We  have  also  found  in  all  our  investigations  of 
transmission  of  force  by  means  of  undulations  some 


The  Philosophy  of  Memory.  '**"*^         41 

reason  to  believe  that  such  transmission  is  charac- 
terized by  increase  in  ampHtude  and  diminution  in 
intensity  of  vibration.  In  this  hght,  then,  let  us 
examine  the  phenomena  of  memory  and  ascertain 
if  they  do  not  present  analogies  sufficiently  strong 
to  make  it  highly  probable  that  they  also  depend 
upon  some  form  of  force  expressed  in  terms  of  undu- 
lations or  waves  and  correlated  with  other  forms  of 
force  in  nature. 

I  would  have  it  understood  that  I  propose  to 
make  no  attempt  to  explain  the  nature  of  con- 
sciousness. Consciousness  is  accepted  as  something 
totally  incomprehensible  and  inexplicable  in  any 
scientific  sense.  Nor  can  any  new  facts  or  new  obser- 
vations be  offered  here  in  the  elucidation  of  memory. 
The  aim  is  simply  to  apply  analogies  drawn  from 
well-known  facts,  some  of  them  remote  enough  in- 
deed, in  the  hope  that  at  least  an  additional  glimmer 
of  light  may  be  let  in  upon  a  most  obscure  and  dif- 
ficult question,  and  that  in  this  way  some  additional 
aid  may  be  given  to  whomsoever  will  pursue  it  to  a 
satisfactory  solution. 

ANALOGIES  OF  EXPRESSION  IN  ANIMALS. 

The  first  of  these  analogies  may  be  found  in  the 
similarity  of  terms  and  movements  by  means  of  which 
nearly  all  classes  of  animals  are  accustomed  as  a  rule 
to  express  similar  feelings.  Thus  it  has  ever  been 
to  thoughtful  men  a  question  of  curious  and  abiding 
interest  how  it  results  that  each  class  of  feelings 
among  men  and  nearly  all  the  higher  animals  is 
expressed    in  similar    and    seemingly  corresponding 


42  TJw  Philosophy  of  Memory. 

tones  and  movements.  The  voice  of  anger,  the  cry 
of  joy,  the  wail  of  grief,  or  the  cooings  of  love  we 
may  usually  recognize,  even  though  we  may  never 
before  have  met  with  an  individual  of  the  species 
from  which  they  proceed.  Whatever  the  source, 
the  utterance  is  perhaps  invariably  the  same.  These 
different  tones  and  expressive  movements,  the  true 
language  of  their  feelings,  have  not  been  learned  by 
the  different  species  of  animals  from  one  another,  and 
it  is  also  certain  that  they  have  not  been  derived  from 
any  remote  common  ancestor  by  inheritance.  For 
they  never  could  have  been  possessed  by  any  possi- 
ble common  ancestor  except  in  the  most  rudimentary 
form.  Yet  beyond  all  reasonable  doubt  the  employ- 
ment of  these  tones  has  originated  from  a  common 
source  ;  all  animals  have  derived  them  from  a  store  of 
influence  that  operates  upon  every  living  thing  alike. 
What  is  that  source  and  what  are  the  laws  by 
which  these  results  have  been  obtained  1  For, 
whatever  views  may  be  held  of  the  origin  of  life,  we 
can  not  doubt  that  all  things  are  effected  now  not  by 
miracle  but  in  accordance  with  the  laws  that  infin- 
ite force  manifests  in  nature.  The  point  to  be  made 
is,  that  all  mental  operations  this  side  of  conscious- 
ness are  due  to  vibrations  or  undulations,  which  are 
the  medium  of  expression  of  the  forces  that  are 
found  active  in  the  part  of  the  brain  which  is  the 
seat  of  consciousness  ;  and  that  the  impact  of  these 
undulations,  whenever  it  is  sufficiently  strong,  when- 
ever the  strokes  are  of  sufficient  intensity,  results  in 
an  act  of  recognition  by  consciousness.  The  per- 
sistence of  these  waves  or  undulations  in  the  brain 
cells  is  what  we  rightly  call  memory. 


The  Philosophy  of  Memory.  43 

The  first  vibrations  resulting  from  the  striking  of 
a  tuning-fork  or  a  bell  may  be  taken  to  represent 
the  various  forms  of  impressions  made  upon  the 
sensorium,  such  as  light  makes  through  the  eye  or 
sound  through  the  ear. 

The  bell  or  the  tuning-fork  continues  to  vibrate, 
and  in  this  we  have  the  counterpart  of  memory ; 
only  in  the  brain  the  undulations  continue  indefi- 
nitely. Memory,  then,  is  only  a  peep  we  gain  of 
the  mind  at  work. 

ANALOGIES    OF    MIND    AND    COMMON    FORCE. 

We  may  now  particularize  and  trace  out  some  of 
the  numerous  and  striking  analogies  between  the 
different  forms  of  the  common  force  of  nature  and 
the  affections  to  which  the  mind  is  subject  in 
receiving,  retaining,  and  reproducing  impressions. 

We  have  already  seen  that  the  undulations  or 
waves  in  water  and  in  the  vibrations  of  earthquakes 
become  slower  and  longer  as  they  advance,  and  we 
have  found,  also,  that  there  is  some  reason  to  believe 
the  same  to  be  true  of  light  and  sound. 

Furthermore,  we  have  good  reason  to  believe  that 
the  same  laws  apply  to  all  forms  oi  force  ;  for  since 
they  are  mutually  convertible  the  one  into  the 
other,  we  can  not  well  doubt  that  they  are  subject 
to  the  same  laws  of  action. 

RESEMBLANCES    BETWEEN    VIBRATIONS    AND 
MEMORIES. 

Turning  now  to  the  examination  of  memory  with 
reference   to  these    laws,   it   is  found   that    ideas  of 


44  T^Ji<^  PJiilosopIiy  of  Memory. 

things  far  removed  in  time  or  space  are  called  up 
by  suggestive  impressions  that  reach  us  through  the 
medium  of  weaves  of  large  amplitude,  that  is,  of  long 
and  slow  waves,  while  quick  movements,  suggestions 
presented  to  us  in  terms  of  short  waves,  call  up 
ideas  of  things  less  distant,  and  also  of  those  more 
recently  formed.  Thus  the  view  of  lofty  mountains, 
dim  and  azure  hued  in  the  distance,  vistas  opening 
out  into  the  ocean,  and  above  all  the  strains  of  low 
pitched,  soft  and  plaintive  music,  fill  the  mind  with 
reminiscences  of  things  that  are  far  away,  or  of 
events  of  the  almost  forgotten  past. 

And  thus  it  is  that  for  that  instrument  of  music 
that  gives  the  sweetest,  softest,  and  most  melting 
of  tones,  "far  windharp "  is  everywhere  the  self- 
suggested  name. 

On  the  other  hand,  quick  and  lively  tones,  spirited 
music,  necessarily  made  up  of  short  undulations, 
chain  the  thoughts  to  the  present,  and  instead  of 
calling  for  stillness,  silence,  and  reverie,  prompt  us 
to  responsive  and  suggestive  expression  in  action,  as 
if  the  thing  were  in  easy  reach  and  easy  oi  attain- 
ment. 

No  one  springs  at  the  sound  of  far-off  cannonad- 
ing, or  the  rumble  of  distant  thunder,  any  more 
than  one  feels  moved  to  dance  by  strains  of  slow 
and  far-ofT  music.  That  which  appears  to  be  in 
reach,  that  which  is  made  sensible  to  us  in  terms  of 
quick  vibrations,  re-enforces  the  vibratory  currents 
in  the  brain  that  have  to  deal  with  quick  motions, 
and  thus  brings  these  motions  definitely  before  con- 
sciousness.    On  the  contrary,  that  which  is   made 


TJic  PJiilosophy  of  Mciiiory.  45 

sensible  to  the  mind  in  terms  of  slow,  of  ample 
vibrations,  re-enforces  those  undulations  in  the  brain 
that  have  become  slow ;  vibrations  that  are  the 
vehicle  that  perpetuates  in  memory  impressions  of 
things  that  are  long  past  or  seemingly  far  away. 
And  thus  the  body  is  impressed  to  stillness  because 
the  source  and  cause  of  these  vibrations  are  instinct- 
ively recognized  as  beyond  its  reach.  The  slow 
undulations  in  the  mind  are  not  the  ones  that  give 
rise  to  bodily  activity.  The  body  does  not  attempt 
to  reach  what  is  instinctively  felt  to  be  out  of  reach, 

"  Be  still  and  know  that  I  am  God"  was  an  in- 
junction justly  suggested  by  an  all-pervading  truth, 
in  that  it  is  in  stillness  alone  that  the  mind  may  even 
attempt  to  grasp  the  infinite. 

This  relation  of  fitness  between  the  mode  of 
suggestion  and  the  characteristics  of  the  thing  sug- 
gested, between  the  language  employed  and  the 
thing  it  describes,  has  found  universal  expression  in 
the  choice  of  tones  in  music  and  speech,  of  measure 
in  poetry,  in  the  blending  and  arrangement  of  colors 
in  painting,  and,  in  short,  in  all  the  delineations  by 
which  art  has  sought  to  impress  the  mind  through 
the  portrayal  of  the  truths  of  nature.  "It  is,  in- 
deed, the  law,  even  the  holy  law,  that  imposes 
beauty  on  the  artist." 

In  every  land  and  in  every  age  men  seek  to 
conduct  the  exercises  of  religion  with  a  solemnity 
related  to  and  suggestive  of  the  objects  of  worship. 
If  the  object  worshiped  be  regarded  as  limited  in 
power,  and  imperfect  in  its  divine  attributes,  the 
tones  and  other  accessories  employed  in  its  worship 


46  TJic  Philosophy  of  Memory. 

are  not  greatly  different  from  those  employed  by 
men  in  their  intercourse  with  one  another. 

To  the  Greeks,  Jupiter,  who  could  sit  no  higher 
than  the  crest  of  Olympus,  which  they  themselves 
could  easily  scale,  was  but  a  superior  Greek.  But 
when  the  divinity  had  ascribed  to  him  the  vast  or 
infinite  power  of  a  Brahma,  with  his  seat  in  the  dim 
heights  of  the  Himalaya,  or  a  Jehovah  who  could 
thunder  from  Sinai,  soft,  deep  monotones,  slow  and 
submissive,  were  chosen  for  the  language  of  worship, 
far-away  refrains  for  its  music,  and  even  subdued 
colors  for  the  habiliments  of  its  votaries. 

The  aim  in  religious  exercises  dedicated  to  objects 
of  such  might  and  power  is  to  give  expression  to 
feelings  and  ideas  awakened  by  the  contemplation 
of  a  being  vaguely  conceived,  vast,  mighty,  kindly, 
and  far  away  ;  therefore  are  chosen  such  music  and 
tones  of  speech  and  other  accessories  and  surround- 
ings as  produce  sense  waves  in  the  organ  of  mind 
most  nearly  akin  to  those  by  which  impressions  of 
an  object  vague,  vast,  kindly,  and  far  away  would 
be  communicated  to  it ;  for  undulations  of  this 
ample  character  are  the  elements  out  of  which  our 
ideas  of  such  objects  are  formed.  Hence  the  spacious 
cathedral,  the  deep-toned  organ,  and  the  echoing 
cavern  as  accessories  of  worship. 

So  the  child  will  speak  of  an  object  perhaps  but 
a  short  distance  away,  but  which  in  the  untraveled 
pathways  of  its  brain  may  have  impressed  its 
mind  as  being  at  a  great  distance,  as  "away  off 
yonder,"  in  slow  and  measured  tones  that  plainly 
answer  to  an  unconscious  realization  of  the  form 
in  which  such  impressions  reach  the  sensorium. 


The  Philosophy  of  Memory.  47 

There  are  said  to  be  savages  who  have  in  their 
language  no  change  of  terms  for  comparison,  but 
who  are  accustomed  to  express  different  degrees  of 
quahty  by  differing  tones  of  voice. 

Thus  the  same  word  may  mean  a  rill,  a  rivulet, 
a  brook,  or  a  river,  according  to  the  tone  in  which 
it  is  spoken.  In  view,  then,  of  these  facts  and  a  vast 
array  of  similar  ones  that  might  be  adduced,  is  it 
not  reasonable  to  conclude  that  the  elements  of  our 
ideas  correspond  in  their  nature  to  the  undulations 
proceeding  from  the  objects  they  represent,  and 
that  they  are  built  up  of  the  waves  of  light  or 
sound  or  other  sense-impressing  forces  that  come 
from  without.'' 

THE    THEORY    PRESENTED. 

Having  proceeded  thus  far  with  the  induction,  it 
may  now  be  well  to  state  more  fully  the  theory 
which  the  foregoing  facts  tend  to  elucidate.  It 
assumes 

First :  That  in  the  cells  of  the  gray  matter  of 
the  brain,  and  possibly  of  the  spinal  cord,  orderly 
groupings  of  waves  or  vibrations  are  set  up  among 
certain  atoms  or  molecules  by  waves  of  light  or 
sound  or  whatever  else  may  affect  any  of  the 
senses. 

Second  ;  That  these  undulations  are  realized 
first  as  sensations  ;  that  they  then  group  themselves 
in  such  a  way  as  to  form  perceptions,  ideas,  emotions, 
and  various  other  products  of  mentation. 

Third  :  That  these  vibrations  or  groups  of 
vibrations,  passing  from  one  cell  to  another  along 


48  TJic  PliilosopJiy  of  Memory. 

the  connecting  white  fibers,  or  from  one  part  of  a 
cell  to  another  part,  rise  in  succession  into  the  scope 
of  consciousness,  and  that  these  groupings  occupy 
the  attention  of  consciousness  in  the  order  of  the 
number  and  intensity  of  the  waves  of  which  they  are 
composed. 

Fourth  :  That  by  reason  of  some  unapprehended 
property,  consciousness  after  a  time  either  ceases  to 
be  affected  by  any  given  force  of  vibration  or  else 
the  vibration  itself  is  borne  on  by  the  constant  cur- 
rent of  force  persistent  in  the  cells,  from  the  point 
of  contact  with  the  seat  of  consciousness,  and  that 
when  this  occurs,  other  vibrations  may  enlist  the 
attention  of  consciousness  and   gain   its  recognition. 

Fifth  :  That  there  pass  continuously  through 
and  among  the  cells,  normally,  innumerable  vibra- 
tions or  groups  of  vibrations,  the  residua  of  former 
impressions,  which  are  too  weak  ordinarily  to  force 
themselves  into  the  scope  of  consciousness,  but 
which  yet  may  gain  its  recognition  by  taking  to 
themselves  other  waves  of  the  same  character  as 
themselves,  gathered  from  those  already  present  in 
the  brain  cells  or  else  derived  immediately  from 
without. 

Sixth :  That  the  tendency  of  all  these  waves 
and  groups  of  waves,  like  the  waves  of  light  or  sound 
in  space,  is  to  grow  gradually  slower  and  weaker, 
until  in  all  their  combinations,  if  left  to  themselves, 
they  would  escape  the  utmost  grasp  of  conscious- 
ness ;  but  that  when  re-enforced  by  kindred  waves 
they  may  again  enter  into  the  scope  of  conscious- 
ness. 


The  Philosophy  of  Memory.  49 

Seventh  :  Finally,  the  theory  assumes  that  sensa- 
tions, perceptions,  ideas,  emotions,  and  all  similar 
outcome  of  mental  action  or  mental  experience 
whatever  are  essentially  one  and  have  for  a  basis 
the  same  ultimate  elements,  namely,  sense  waves 
or  undulations  combined  with  the  normal  force 
movement  residual  in  the  brain  and  variously  modi- 
fied. Memory  is  supposed  to  be  nothing  else  than 
the  persistence  of  these  undulations  in  the  nerve 
centers,  with  or  without  the  power  of  distinct  reap- 
pearance in  consciousness. 

As  an  example  and  probably  an  instance  of  the 
reinvigoration  and  revival  of  vibrations  that  have 
become  latent  in  the  brain,  let  us  suppose  that  a 
sense  wave  derived  from  any  of  the  senses,  say  the 
sight  or  hearing,  enters  the  visual  or  auditory  center 
of  the  brain  and  there  finds  a  group  of  homoge- 
neous waves  that  have  been  long  present  but 
become  too  weak  to  command  recognition  from  con- 
sciousness. The  result  will  be  that  the  ideas  which 
these  groups  of  waves  once  constituted  will  be  again 
revived  and  brought  into  consciousness. 

When  this  occurs  the  predominance  in  potency 
may  be  either  with  the  sets  of  undulations  already 
present  in  the  cells,  or  with  the  newly  added  vibra- 
tions, and  in  proportion  as  one  class  is  stronger 
than  the  other  will  that  class  be  recognized  by  con- 
sciousness as  mainly  constituting  the  new  idea. 
If  the  sets  of  undulations  already  present  in  the 
mind  predominate,  the  newly  brought  waves  will  not 
in  that  case  be  distinguished  or  separately  recognized 
by  consciousness,  and  the  product  of  the  combina- 


50  The  Philosophy  of  Memory. 

tion  will  be  regarded  as  an  act  of  reminiscence  or 
recollection,  sensibly  or  insensibly  modified. 

But  if,  on  the  other  hand,  the  newly  added  vibra- 
tions preponderate,  a  seemingly  new  idea  or  mental 
affection  will  be  formed,  which  will,  however,  be 
more  or  less  dimly  colored  or  tinted  by  the  fading 
undulations  already  become  latent  in  the  brain  cells. 

Under  such  circumstances  the  vanishing  undula- 
tions so  recalled  may  arouse  vague  feelings  or 
impressions  of  the  far  beyond,  or  of  the  long  forgot- 
ten past,  in  connection  with  the  new  idea. 

Through  the  dim  shadows  of  mental  images  thus 
formed  there  will  often  flicker  glimpses  as  of  life 
and  scenes  in  another  world  or  another  state  of 
existence.  As  Richter  says  of  music,  they  may  lead 
us  to  think  of  things  we  have  not  seen  and  yet  shall 
not  see. 

A  further  analogy,  drawn  from  a  practical  illus- 
tration of  the  laws  of  sound,  will  serve  in  some 
measure  to  make  plainer  how  vibrations  from  with- 
out, of  the  same  nature  as  those  supposed  to  exist 
within  the  brain  as  the  remnant  of  former  impres- 
sions, can  enable  these  to  arouse  consciousness  and 
manifest  themselves  as  memories. 

It  is  a  law  of  acoustics  that  the  multiplication  of 
a  sound  does  not  increase  its  intensity  ;  that  is,  a 
sound  produced  by  many  voices  will  proceed  no  far- 
ther than  when  produced  by  one.  Yet  the  sound  of 
many  voices  together  can  be  heard  farther  than  the 
sound  produced  by  one.  A  single  bee  may  be  buzz- 
ing near  us  and  not  be  heard  ;  but  if  another  or 
several  others  join  it  in  the  same  situation,  together 


The  Philosophy  of  Memory.  5 1 

they  may  produce  a  distinctly  audible  noise.  It  is 
thus  with  the  undulations  that  in  the  ultimate  home 
of  consciousness  have  become  the  mind's  record  of 
experience,  the  memory  of  things. 

With  the  lapse  of  time  they  have  become  less 
and  less  vivid,  less  and  less  intense,  less  and  less 
distinct,  until  they  have  settled  down,  where  they 
bid  fair  to  remain  beyond  the  utmost  reach  of  con- 
sciousness. But  the  sight  or  hearing  or  taste,  or 
some  other  less  specialized  sense,  brings  from  with- 
out a  kindred  wave,  or  within  the  cells  new  couples 
are  formed  among  the  participants  in  the  intricate 
mazes  of  the  never-ending  dance,  or  even  many 
pairs  and  groups  may  join  in  noisy  promenade.  So 
strengthened,  they  force  the  ears  of  consciousness 
to  hear,  and  thus  ideas  and  emotions  —  though 
never  the  same  as  before  but  always  modified  —  are 
made  to  appear  on  the  open  arena  of  mental  activ- 
ities. It  is  no  more  possible  to  think  the  same 
thought  twice,  to  feel  the  same  emotion  twice,  than 
to  see  the  same  cloud  twice  journeying  through  the 
air,  or  a  smoke  curl  twice  floating  in  identical  form. 

GROWTH    OF    IDEAS. 

Consistent  with  the  views  here  advanced  are  our 
observations  of  the  growth  of  ideas,  or  of  sensations 
into  ideas.  It  will  hardly  be  doubted  that  sense 
vibrations  are  recorded  in  all  minds  in  a  similar  man- 
ner, provided  all  the  senses  of  the  individuals  are  of 
the  same  nature,  that  is,  normal  ;  therefore,  all  the 
obvious  attributes  of  an  object  will  produce  a  sim- 
ilar impression  on  every  mind.      It  would  seem  that 


52  The  Philosophy  of  Monoty. 

expression  should  also  be  the  same,  and  that  word 
pictures  of  ideas  or  what  is  known  as  onomatopoeia 
should  be  the  rule.  But  this  is  far  from  being  the 
case. 

How  is  it,  then,  that  direct  designations,  such  as 
the  names  of  objects,  although  never  so  multifarious 
and  having  apparently  no  suggestive  relation,  will 
call  up  the  same  mental  image  in  different  minds  ? 

For  instance,  take  the  name  of  one  of  our  domes- 
tic animals  ;  say  the  horse.  Its  name  in  any  of  the 
various  languages,  such  as  hippos,  equus,  pferd, 
caballo,  or  cheval,  will  to  any  one  understanding 
these  languages  suggest  an  individual  image.  Yet 
not  one  of  these  names  is  a  thought  word. 

Can  it  be  that  there  is  in  nature  one  true  language, 
and  that  in  the  nerve  centers  all  other  languages  are 
translated  into  that  expressive  tongue  .-' 

It  is  much  more  likely  that  the  undulations  which 
in  the  mind  form  the  sensible  image  of  an  object 
enter  into  groupings  with  the  undulations  that  form 
every  other  attribute  or  name  that  such  object  is 
perceived  to  acquire,  and  that  its  idea  grows  larger 
with  every  new  name  and  attribute. 

Thus,  though  we  designate  an  object  such  as  a 
horse,  for  instance,  by  a  hundred  different  names, 
each  of  such  names,  whether  heard  or  seen  or  made 
out  through  the  touch,  as  with  the  blind,  will  form 
part  of  the  complex  idea  of  a  horse,  just  as  will  the 
hoof  or  head  or  mane  or  tail  ;  and  sensory  undula- 
tions proceeding  from  any  one  of  these  will  be  suf- 
ficient to  call  up  in  consciousness  the  idea  of  a  horse. 

Every  attribute  becomes  a  handle  by  which  the 


The  Philosophy  of  Mcmoiy.  53 

idea  in  all  its  complexity  may  be  summoned  into 
consciousness. 

It  is  easy,  then,  to  account  for  the  fact  that  men 
seek  factitious  elements  of  greatness  in  the  way  of 
complimentary  mention,  imposing  dress,  ornaments, 
and  decorations. 

The  tattooed  savage  and  the  thrice  crowned  and 
bejeweled  potentate  are  traveling  in  the  same  path. 

In  harmony  with  the  foregoing  theory  is  also  the 
fact  that  the  tenacity  with  which  the  mind  holds 
impressions  made  upon  it  bears  a  direct  relation, 
other  things  being  equal,  to  the  length  of  time  the 
vibrations  from  a  given  source  may  have  continued 
to  play  upon  consciousness.  A  like  result  is  also 
accomplished  by  intensity  of  impact. 

Thus,  after  having  suffered  from  certain  forms 
of  infectious  fever,  such  as  acute  rheumatism,  for 
instance,  men  have  been  known  to  have  let  slip  from 
memory  all  knowledge  of  the  events  of  a  short  period 
previous  to  the  attack  of  illness.  Similarily  those 
who  have  suffered  from  severe  concussion  of  the 
brain,  or  a  stroke  of  apoplexy,  will  often  be  found 
to  have  forgotten  impressions  made  upon  the  mind 
at  a  date  just  anterior  to  such  accident,  unless  such 
impressions  shall  have  been  made  in  a  very  vivid 
manner. 

The  undulations  in  these  cases,  in  their  circuits 
among  the  cells,  not  having  had  the  time  or  initial 
force  to  enable  them  to  enter  into  a  sufficient  num- 
ber of  groupings  with  others  in  the  brain,  not  having 
had  time  to  form  a  sufficient  number  of  acquaint- 
ances, so  to  speak,  found  no  friendly  hand  after  the 


54  TJic  Philosophy  of  Memory. 

shpck  to  awaken  them,  strengthen  them,  and  aid 
them  in  demanding  recognition  at  the  hands  of 
consciousness. 

APPARENT  SHORTNESS  OF  TIME. 

In  a  similar  way,  by  a  converse  process,  we  may 
account  for  the  seeming  shortness  embraced  in  the 
period  of  our  past  experience.  All  the  long  years  of 
life  that  is  past  seem  but  as  yesterday.  "Time 
flies  "  is  a  maxim  current  everywhere. 

The  reason  of  the  seeming  shortness  of  time  ap- 
pears to  be  that  the  undulations  which  in  the  brain 
constitute  the  record,  the  memory  of  each  hour,  are 
molded  into  and  kept  alive  by  those  of  the  hours 
that  follow  ;  and  thus  closely  united  and  blended 
together  in  the  memory,  years  become  days  and 
weeks  become  moments. 

We  call  time  short,  in  part  at  least,  because  the 
past  is  made  to  seem  so  by  the  mechanism  of  mem- 
ory. 

So,  also,  those  who  are  associated  with  us  from 
childhood  or  early  life  never  grow  old. 

The  brother  or  sister,  though  silver-crowned  and 
bowed  with  age,  is  the  brother  or  the  sister  of  the 
play  place  still,  and  venerable  companions  of  wedded 
life,  "  tottering  down  the  hill  together,"  are  still,  the 
one  to  the  other,  the  manly  groom  and  the  radiant 
bride  with  the  orange  blossoms  at  the  altar. 

DREAMS    LAG    BEHIND    EXPERIENCES. 

A  further  illustration  may  be  drawn  from  certain 
peculiarities  of  dreams  though  the  phenomena  here 


The  Philosophy  of  Memory.  5  5 

presented  might  be  susceptible  of  other  explanation. 
It  is  a  peculiar  feature  of  dreams  that  changed  cir- 
cumstances are  seldom  realized  in  them  until  a 
considerable  period  of  time  has  elapsed  after  the 
change. 

The  scenes  that  are  presented  to  us  in  dreams, 
after  we  have  made  change  of  residence,  for  ex- 
ample, are  for  a  longer  or  shorter  period  of  time 
almost  invariably  laid  at  the  place  of  former  resi- 
dence and  surrounded  by  familiar  features.  This 
may  be  accounted  for,  in  part,  upon  the  supposition 
that  nearly  all  motions,  both  about  and  within  us, 
while  we  sleep,  are  as  a  rule  slower  than  those  of 
waking  hours.  The  breathing  is  slower,  the  heart- 
beat is  slower,  and,  besides  the  general  stillness 
that  environs  us,  the  senses  are  closed  to  excitations 
from  without,  so  that  the  memory  waves  of  the 
past,  undisturbed  by  fresh  undulations,  have  freer 
play  upon  the  half-awakened  consciousness. 

Night,  even  without  sleep,  brings  far-away  mem- 
ories, and  few  indeed  there  are  who  may  not  with 
truth  repeat  with  the  poet  : 

"  Oft  in  the  stilly  night. 

Ere  slumber's  chain  has  bound  me, 
Fond  memory  brings  the  light 
Of  other  days  around  me." 

No  one  can  realize  in  dreams  till  after  some 
lapse  of  time  the  fact  that  a  great  calamity  has  been 
experienced  in  the  hours  of  waking.  Bitterly  as 
the  waking  hours  may  be  haunted  by  the  memory 
of  some  cruel  loss,  some  stinging  sin  or  searching 


56  The  Philosophy  of  Memory. 

sorrow,  we  may  still  lie  down  to  pleasant  dreams, 
and  then  awaking  to  a  troubled  appreciation  of  the 
painful  reality,  we  fain  would  persuade  ourselves 
that  the  truth  is  itself  the  dream. 

"THE     RAVEN." 

Nowhere  does  this  principle  seem  to  me  to  have 
received  a  more  appropriate  portrayal  than  in  that 
most  weird  of  poetic  productions,  "The  Raven." 

The  half-revealed  theme  of  "  The  Raven  "  seems 
to  be  our  experience  of  the  method  in  which  painful 
happenings  of  waking  hours  take  possession  of  our 
dreams,  though  the  original  inspiration  may  have 
been  in  some  measure  lost  sight  of  and  obscured  by 
the  poet  in  bending  the  description  to  the  require- 
ments of  artistic  rules.  Well  chosen  is  the  poet's 
vision  to  symbolize  a  biting  sin  or  heart-searching 
sorrow,  with  raven  aspect,  stalking  in  dreams  into 
the  halls  of  memory,  thrusting  its  beak  into  the 
heart,  and  fated  by  and  by  to  gather  all  the  soul 
into  its  never-lifting  shadow. 

When  we  consider  the  number  of  undulations 
necessary  to  record  all  the  sensations  and  sensation 
products  of  a  lifetime,  the  magnitude  of  the  number, 
as  indeed  in  every  theory  of  memory,  seems  to  offer 
an  insuperable  difficulty.  This  will  disappear,  how- 
ever, when  the  possible  extent  and  rapidity  of  undu- 
lating motion  is  taken  into  consideration.  In  the 
transmission  of  light  the  waves  of  the  conducting 
ether  are  said  to  obtain  the  rapidity  of  four  hundred 
and  twenty  eight  million  millions  of  shocks  or  waves 
per   second    for   red    light,   to    seven    hundred    and 


The  PJiilosopJiy  of  Memory.  57 

thirty  nine  million  millions  for  violet,  and  a  number 
vastly  beyond  these  for  the  transmission  of  chemical 
or  ultra  violet  rays.  But  inconceivably  great  as 
these  numbers  may  seem,  they  form  only  an  infini- 
tesimal part  of  the  undulations  that  can  take  place 
in  a  single  direction  out  of  the  infinite  number  of 
directions  possible  at  the  same  moment  of  time. 
Let  us  suppose  the  visible  universe  to  consist  of  a 
hollow  sphere,  and  every  one  of  its  hundred  millions 
of  sparkling  stars  to  be  a  luminous  eye  giving  out 
light,  and  at  the  same  time  gazing  at  its  fellow  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  sphere  and  directly  through 
the  central  atom. 

For  a  ray  of  violet  light,  that  central  atom  must 
dance  in  waves  to  the  number  of  seven  hundred  and 
thirty-nine  million  millions  per  second  for  each  one, 
or  at  least  for  each  pair,  of  these  starry  eyes. 

And  this  is  in  but  one  direction  and  for  one 
variety  of  light. 

Yet  between  these  two  stars,  and  still  in  the 
same  direction,  this  atom  must  further  keep  step  to 
the  vibrations  of  at  least  eleven  other  varieties  of 
light,  or  twelve,  if  the  ultra  violet  be  included, 
ranging  from  three  hundred  and  seventy  million 
millions  to  eight  hundred  and  eighty-three  million 
millions  per  second. 

Now  take  two  other  of  the  sparkling  eyes  half 
round  the  vault  from  these,  and  looking  at  each 
other  directly  through  this  same  central  atom. 
This  atom  must  now,  while  maintaining  its  former 
motion,  vibrate  in  a  directly  transverse  way  with 
the  same  rapidity  as  before. 


58  Tlic  PJiilosophy  of  Memory. 

And  after  all,  this  is  only  a  beginning ;  for  these 
vibrations  must  all  be  repeated  fifty  if  not  a  hundred 
million  times  for  the  entire  host,  and  at  the  same 
moment  of  time. 

And  yet  still  multiplied  millions,  as  many  of  these 
eyes  might  bestud  this  limitless  vault  and  each  see 
its  opposite  through  the  atom  of  ether  at  its  very 
center.  Similarly,  then,  at  the  seat  of  conscious- 
ness, each  atom,  and  much  more,  each  complex 
molecule,  may,  by  its  infinite  possible  undulations, 
be  employed  at  one  and  the  same  time  in  a  like 
infinite  number  of  sensations,  thoughts,  ideas, 
emotions,  and'  other  contents  of   memory. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  apparatus  of  mind  is 
not  responsive  to  all  modifications  of  force  that  are 
operative  in  nature,  and  that  some  that  are  opera- 
tive are  not  consciously  perceived. 

Our  sense  of  hearing  does  not  perceive  undula- 
lations  of  greater  frequency  than  forty-two  or  forty- 
three  thousand  per  second.  The  rate  and  range  of 
the  undulations  perceived  by  taste  and  smell  have 
not  been  ascertained,  but  the  presumption  is  that 
they  are  vastly  more  limited  than  those  made 
sensible  to  sight.  It  has  been  ascertained  that  sight 
is  insensible  to  undulations  of  less  than  three  hun- 
dred and  seventy  million  millions  or  more  than 
seven  hundred  and  thirty-nine  million  millions  per 
second,  and  it  may  be  that  even  within  these  limits 
there  are  vast  numbers  of  undulations  that  make  no 
conscious  impression  on  the  senses,  vast  numbers 
of  moving  fingers  that  find  no  keys  in  the  organ  of 
mind  upon  which  to  play. 


The  Philosophy  of  Memory.   '  59 

Outside  of  these  limits  are  doubtless  untold  num- 
bers that  by  our  senses  alone  we  may  never  appre- 
hend. 

OF  THE  NATURE  OF  EMOTIONS. 

This  brings  us  to  a  point  in  the  discussion  where 
a  more  extensive  explanation  is  required  of  certain 
terms  already  used,  in  order  to  intelligently  consider 
the  nature  of  such  experiences  as  grief,  joy,  and 
other  similar  affections  known  as  emotions. 

It  has  already  been  set  forth  in  the  statement  of 
the  vibratory  theory  of  mind  that  sensations,  per- 
ceptions, ideas,  and  emotions,  with  all  other  outcome 
of  mental  action,  are  essentially  one,  and  that  they 
depend  for  their  difference  upon  the  different  group- 
ings of  vibrations  that  play  upon  the  seat  of  con- 
sciousness and  the  different  direction  and  intensity 
of  the  play.  This  would  assume  that  an  idea  is  not 
a  visual  image  but  a  grouping  of  vibrations  as  they 
play  on  the  seat  of  consciousness,  a  musical  image 
rather  than  a  visual  image. 

We  have  seen  how  undulations  that  enter  the 
brain  as  sensations  might  build  up  ideas  into  very 
complex  forms.  But  before  that  point  is  reached 
many  distinct  changes  must  have  taken  place  in  the 
groupings  of  the  undulations. 

A  mere  sensation  to  the  eye  of  consciousness  has 
no  shape  ;  it  is  simply  the  ringing  of  the  door-bell. 
It  may  be  anybody's  ring.  But  when  it  begins  to 
take  form  it  becomes  a  perception,  and,  strictly 
speaking,  should  no  longer  be  called  a  sensation. 
We  speak  of  a  sensation  of  heat,  and  custom  justifies 
it  ;  but  ought  it  not  be  called  a  perception  of  heat  .-* 


6o  The  Philosophy  of  Memory. 

So  with  color,  we  even  say  sensation  of  color, 
after  we  have  taken  the  color  into  definite  com- 
parison and  it  has  become  a  mental  image,  an 
idea. 

Now,  when  any  thing  has  produced  an  image  on 
the  organ  of  the  mind,  whether  a  visual  image  or  a 
grouping  based  on  the  other  senses  that  has  reached 
the  same  stage,  we  call  it  properly  an  idea.  An 
idea,  then,  may  be  defined  to  be  such  a  grouping  of 
sense  waves  as  are  capable  of  producing  in  conscious- 
ness images  or  suggestive  representations  of  external 
things,  that  is,  external  to  consciousness. 

An  emotion  is  simply  an  idea  which  has  had 
woven  into  its  complex  group  a  greater  or  less  num- 
ber of  such  undulations  as  are  otherwise  usually 
employed  in  the  production  of  any  kind  of  expres- 
sive movement,  whether  such  expression  be  brought 
about  by  muscular  movement  or  secreting  gland. 
In  short,  it  is  an  idea  plus  any  kind  of  involuntary 
movement  due  to  it  ;  hence  the  term  emotion,  or 
moving  out.  This  employment  of  the  term, however, 
is  not  without  exception,  if  it  be  not  itself  the  ex- 
ception. The  term  is  often  applied  to  the  physical 
expression  of  the  feeling,  and  in  that  case  the  emo- 
tion would  not  embrace  the  idea,  but  would  be 
merely  a  kind  of  muscular  effort  produced  by  a  certain 
class  of  ideas.  As  long  as  these  complexes  of  undu- 
lations accord  with  the  well-being  of  the  individual, 
the  result  is  happiness  ;  when  it  fails  to  do  so,  the 
result  IS  unhappiness — the  idea  or  emotion  becomes 
disagreeable. 


The  Philosophy  of  Memory.  6 1 


GRIEF  ANALYZED. 

The  analysis  of  one  of  these  emotions  will  serve 
to  supply  a  better  understanding  of  what  is  meant, 
and  this  analysis  is  perhaps  best  attained  by  the 
study  of  the  evolution  of  an  emotion.  Suppose  I 
have  any  commonplace  object  that  is  of  an  agreeable 
pattern,  a  painting,  for  instance,  and  that  the  undu- 
lations which  make  up  its  mental  image  meet  with 
an  agreeable  response  in  consciousness.  I  lose  it, 
and  at  once  feel  that  there  exists  an  unpleasant 
vacancy  in  the  assembly  of  mental  impressions. 
Something,  for  a  short  time  at  least,  is  lacking  from 
accustomed  pleasant  influences. 

The  painting  can  no  longer  send  the  required 
undulations  to  re-enforce  its  agreeable  mental  image, 
and  I  have  therefore  a  disagreeable  mental  experi- 
ence, namely,  that  of  a  blemished,  maimed,  or 
otherwise  impaired  idea.  A  myriad  of  similar  ex- 
periences, very  many  of  them  connected  together  by 
being  made  up  of  undulations  common  to  all  asso- 
ciated cells,  enter  into  the  make-up  of  my  state  of 
mind.  So  far  we  have  assumed  that  none  of  the 
undulations  going  to  form  the  idea  take  hold  on  or 
belong  to  motor  cells  in  the  brain,  and  therefore 
elicit  no  stimulus  to  involuntary  expressive  move- 
ment. But  if  repeated  every  day,  or  often,  the  loss 
idea  might  extend  to  the  motor  cells  and  take  on  the 
character  of  an  emotion.  It  may  be,  however,  that 
great  numbers  of  small  or  more  or  less  vexatious 
losses  have  been  suffered.  I  may  then  reach  a  point 
where  the  loss    of    my    painting,   in    addition,   may 


62  The  Philosophy  of  Memory. 

cause  a  very  painful  idea.  And  why  ?  For  the 
simple  reason  that  the  memory  record  of  these  suc- 
cessive marred  ideas  has  been  kept  in  the  same  or  a 
closely  connected  area  of  the  brain,  and  with  each 
new  loss  they  are  called  up,  and  combine  to  make  a 
more  painful  impression. 

The  case  is  similar  with  emotions.  We  have  a 
loved  one,  say  a  mother,  whose  idea  has  been 
enlaced  with  our  being  by  innumerable  agreeable 
undulations  until  it  has  taken  root  in  the  sources  of 
expressive  movement.  A  thrill  comes  unbidden 
even  when  the  name  is  spoken.  We  lose  her  by 
death.  We,  of  course,  have  never  lost  a  mother 
before,  yet  our  hearts  are  filled  with  the  deepest 
grief.  Now  this  grief  is  produced  only  indirectly  by 
our  mother's  death  ;  for  how  could  we  know  to 
grieve  so  bitterly  for  that  we  never  before  experi- 
enced 1  The  direct  and  potential  cause  is  the 
marred  and  wounded  emotions  left  in  the  mind  by 
all  the  past  partings  and  bereavements  of  life,  now 
summoned  up  by  this  fresh  wound,  whose  record  is 
added  to  their  own. 

The  proof  that  such  is  the  case  is  found  in  the 
fact  that  very  nearly  the  same  effect  will  be  produced 
by  a  false  report  of  our  mother's  death,  such  a 
report  being  sufficient  to  open  the  sluice-gates  of 
marred  and  withered  emotions. 

INITIATION    OF    REMEMBRANCES. 

But  who  knows  how  or  what  is  the  first  stir  that 
maxks  the  beginning  of  this  movement  .-•  It  may  be 
that  some  vibration  joins  a  related  one  somewhere 


The  Philosophy  of  Meinoiy.  63 

in  the  brain  cells,  and  the  two  start  up  a  diminutive 
electric  current  that  sets  the  machinery  in  motion, 
or  stimulates  the  nerves  that  dilate  the  arteries  and 
bids  them  allow  a  greater  current  of  blood  to  flow 
to  the  cells  where  these  memories  are  stored,  in 
order  that  they  may  spring  like  a  flash  into  the  arena 
of  consciousness.  We  have  seen  that  close  beneath 
the  surface  of  the  brain  there  are  large  numbers  of 
cells  that  ordinarily  have  no  filaments  or  nerve 
tubules  connecting  them  with  the  other  cells,  but 
that  occasionally,  when  they  need  to  communicate 
with  their  fellows,  they  stretch  out  portions  of  their 
own  bodies  —  string  their  own  wires,  so  to  speak  — 
and  establish  communication  with  brother  cells  of 
the  same  class,  and  also  with  the  general  mass  of 
brain  cells. 

Vibrations  of  some  kind  are  doubtless  stored  in 
these  isolated  cells,  and  when  in  their  tiny  halls 
maneuverings  take  place,  they  feel  prompted  to 
report  the  result,  or  it  may  be  they  desire  to  get  fuller 
reports  of  what  they  hear  passing  on  the  wires,  or 
otherwise  reaching  them  as  emanations.  Nor  is  there 
any  thing  more  strange  in  the  fact  that  conscious 
impressions  may  be  made  upon  brain  cells,  apart 
from  those  that  come  through  the  senses,  than  that 
these  tiny  independents  should  learn  what  is  going 
on  about  them  and  open  up  communication  with 
their  fellows.  The  phenomena  of  sympathy  and  of 
suggestion,  which  is  closely  related  to  it,  also  find  a 
possible  explanation  in  the  principles  here  pre- 
sented, ag  will  be  later  shown. 


64  The  Philosophy  of  Meinory. 


CONSCIOUS    AND    UNCONSCIOUS    BRAIN  WORK. 

The  part  of  brain  work  that  is  consciously  per- 
formed is  ahnost  as  nothing  when  compared  with 
the  unhmited  work  that  goes  on  unconsciously.  To 
a  thoroughly  predominant  extent  the  timbre  of  life, 
the  wohl-ge-fjiel  of  the  Germans,  depends  upon  the 
character  of  unconscious  processes.  We  will  assume, 
then,  that  muscular  movements  of  every  kind  are 
a  part  of  thought,  an  attachment,  or  possibly  better, 
a  metamorphosis  of  thought,  either  conscious  or  sub- 
conscious. Certain  groupings  of  vibrations,  taking 
appropriate  direction,  determine  a  given  set  of  mus- 
cular movements.  Even  an  emotion  we  have  found 
to  be  an  idea  which  has  been  so  heavily  laden  with 
vibrations  that  a  part  of  them  escape  in  the  form 
of  physical  or  muscular  movements ;  or,  if  better 
expressed,  a  muscular  or  a  secreting-cell  movement 
involuntarily  accompanying  an  idea. 

The  movements  so  produced  are  in  all  probability 
the  correlates  or  multiples  of  the  undulations  that 
caused  them.  If  this  be  true,  we  can  form  a  dim 
conception  of  how  the  perception  of  a  particular 
movement  will  be  followed  in  the  observer  by  a 
retranslation  of  that  movement  into  the  undulations 
of  which  it  is  composed. 

Say,  for  instance,  I  observe  some  one  to  yawn. 
Assuming  that  the  act  of  yawning  is  decomposable 
into  the  undulations  which,  in  the  brain,  give  rise  to 
the  act  ;  that  these  reach  my  brain  through  my  sense 
of  sight,  and  there  arouse  and  intensify  the  corre- 
sponding undulations  with  which  my  brain  produces 


The  Philosophy  of  Mcviory.  65 

the  act  of  yawning,  a  muscular  act  will  follow  iden- 
tical with  that  which  I  have  observed  in  another, 
accompanied  also  by  the  appropriate  feeling.  The 
case  is  the  same  with  laughter,  weeping,  and  all 
other  outcome  of  emotion.  If  we  assume  that  tones 
of  voice  are  intertranslatable  with  the  nerve  vibra- 
tions that  determine  their  production,  we  can  easily 
see  how  angry  words  bring  an  angry  response,  and 
how  "a  soft  answer  turneth  away  wrath,"  and  even 
why  it  is  that  "  all  the  world  loves  a  lover." 

So  it  is  that  a  deeper  interpretation  may  be  given 
to  the  all  too  much  neglected  observations  of  the 
gifted  Delsarte  on  voice  as  indicative  of  character. 
If  one  man,  as  he  shows,  expresses  himself  with 
harsh,  guttural  tones,  and  thus  indicates  harshness 
and  coarseness  of  character,  it  is  because  the  vibra- 
tions in  the  brain  cells,  that  are  the  primary  origin, 
and  the  constituent  elements  from  which  such  ex- 
pression is  formed,  are  themselves  coarse  and  harsh, 
and,  therefore,  all  the  actions  of  such  a  man  will 
show  a  logical  consistency,  as  indeed  will  the  struct- 
ure of  his  physical  organism.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
man  or  the  woman  who  employs  soft,  palatal  tones, 
whose  words  seem  to  linger  with  a  sweet  taste  in 
the  speaker's  mouth,  speaks  also  from  the  gentle 
vibrations  that  store  the  experiences  of  life  in  the 
brain  and  gives  evidence  of  inspiration  from  a  source 
marked  by  greater  refinement.  Indeed,  it  is  not  im- 
possible that  nerves  of  nutrition  have  their  burden 
of  vibration  influenced  in  a  similar  way.  It  has 
often  been  observed  that  after  years  of  association 
husbands   and  their  wives  come  to   resemble  each: 


66  The  Philosophy  of  Memory. 

other.  Likewise  it  has  been  frequently  remarked 
that  children  born  of  foreign  parents,  or  going  to 
foreign  lands,  come  to  resemble  those  with  whom 
they  associate  in  a  new  country  in  a  way  that  can 
hardly  be  accounted  for  by  the  influence  of  climate. 
However,  we  shall  see  further  on  that  an  emanation 
more  subtle  than  that  with  which  the  senses  are 
concerned  may  also  determine  the  influence  of  one 
mind  upon  another,  and  the  physical  movements 
resulting  therefrom  as  well. 

MIND-READING    OR    TELEPATHY. 

Among  the  mysterious  phenomena  of  mind  that 
seem  to  some  extent  susceptible  of  explanation  on 
the  theory  here  advocated  is  that  of  mind-read- 
ing. It  is  not  a  violent  surmise  that  there  exists 
a  world  of  gentle,  subtle  undulations  operative  in 
the  organ  of  mind  that  yet,  with  most  of  us,  never 
come  distinctly  within  the  purview  of  conscious- 
ness. 

That  objects  of  various  kinds  give  off  delicate 
vibrations  which  those  who  are  blessed  with  sight 
never  perceive  is  indicated  by  the  fact  that  people 
absolutely  blind  have  been  enabled  by  the  sense  of 
touch  alone  to  accomplish  the  most  delicate  distinc- 
tion of  colors.  This  doubtless  is  effected  by  the 
recognition  of  undulations  that  must  be  present  with 
us  all  but  only  very  exceptionally  perceived. 

How  reasonable  this  is,  an  observation  made  by 
every  one  who  has  watched  the  change  of  day  into 
night  on  railroad  trains  bears  ready  evidence.  Dur- 
ing the  day  the  glass  in  the  car  windows  seems  to 


The  Philosophy  of  Memory.  67 

offer  no  reflection  of  any  of  the  occupants  of  the 
car.  But  as  soon  as  darkness  settles  down,  each 
pane  of  glass  becomes  a  mirror  and  presents  a  vivid 
reflection  of  the  contents  of  the  car. 

This  is  not  because  a  larger  number  of  rays  of 
light  are  being  now  reflected  back  than  during  the 
day  ;  on  the  contrary,  there  are  far  less,  for  the  rays 
were  more  abundant  during  the  day.  But  during 
the  day  consciousness  was  dazzled  and  blinded  by 
the  flood  of  vibrations  that  came  from  without  and 
did  not  recognize  the  small  number  reflected  from 
the  glass. 

Few  individuals  have  realized  how  much  pain  can 
be  inflicted  merely  by  the  operation  of  the  healthy 
process  of  nutrition  —  the  tearing  away  by  the  leu- 
kocytes of  the  used-up  cells  —  in  our  bodies  until 
they  witness  the  sufferings  of  those  who  have  for  a 
time  blocked  the  pathway  to  consciousness  by  the 
habitual  use  of  morphine  and  then  quit  the  drug. 
The  whole  body  is  then  filled  with  pain  most  difficult 
to  bear,  and  yet  the  same  activities,  the  same  causes 
of  pain,  though  in  full  operation,  are  in  normal  con- 
ditions unobserved.  Some  individuals  possess  the 
power  of  colored  audition,  which  can  hardly  be  other 
than  a  peculiar  power  of  analyzing  sound  into  still  finer 
undulations,  viz.,  the  ether  vibrations  that  are  the 
factors  of  the  waves  of  sound.  Under  the  influence 
of  hydrophobia  and  some  other  affections  the  sensi- 
bility of  the  deaf  has  been  known  to  become  so 
exalted  that  they  could  hear  acutely.  There  are 
other  vibrations  still  that  we  know  must  fill  all 
visible   space  which   have   never  yet  been  brought 


68  The  Philosophy  of  Memory. 

directly  through  the  medium  of  the  senses  into 
human  consciousness. 

Thus  tremors  apparently  produced  among  stars 
so  far  away  that  they  seem  to  border  the  universe 
wholly  unperceived  by  human  sense  have  been 
demonstrated  through    unstrumental   measurement. 

In  view,  then,  of  the  foregoing  and  many  other 
similar  facts,  may  we  not  with  reason  believe  that 
the  mind  is  all  the  time  receiving  from  the  external 
world  countless  subtle  influences,  subtle  waves  of 
the  nature  of  those  that  produce  sensations,  but 
ordinarily  not  of  sufficient  intensity  or  the  proper 
pitch  to  be  recognized  1 

These  influences  or  quasi  sensations  ordinarily 
form  only  the  coloring  of  thought,  perhaps  only  the 
vaguest  of  feelings,  even  the  drapery  of  emotions  ; 
nevertheless,  in  brains  peculiarly  sensitive  they  may 
become  in  some  degree  manifest  as  the  material  of 
thought.  If,  then,  we  add  to  our  theory  the  further 
hypothesis  that  there  is  a  delicate  sense  possessed 
by  men  in  common  with  other  animals,  and  as  yet 
unnamed,  and  admit  that  there  exists  in  nature  the 
obscure  forms  of  force  referred  to  capable  of  affect- 
ing that  sense,  in  some  organizations  even  to  such 
extent  as  to  secure  definite  recognition  at  the  hands 
of  consciousness,  we  should  have  supplied  to  us  an 
explanation  of  mind-reading  and  other  kindred 
powers  that  many  individuals  are  known  to  possess. 

The  question  of  mind-reading  has  met  with  much 
skepticism,  and  doubtless  far  too  much  has  been 
claimed  for  it.  Yet  no  fact  in  science  has  been 
better  established  in  so  far  as  it  is  necessary  to  con- 
firm the  principle. 


TIic  PhilosopJiy  of  Mciiiory .  69 

The  transfer  of  the  motor  impulses  from  mind  to 
mind  without  any  medium  of  sensation  seems  to  be 
the  form  most  commonly  observed.  Thus  the  so- 
called  mind-reader  may  discover  a  hidden  object 
under  circumstances  calculated  in  the  highest  degree 
to  baffle  and  mislead  ;  will  sing  a  song  silently 
thought  over  by  some  one  near  ;  or  perfectly  blind- 
folded will  drive  a  team  at  a  rapid  pace  through  a 
crowded  street,  guarding  against  a  collision  as  effect- 
ually as  the  most  expert  driver  with  all  his  faculties 
free.  In  all  this  he  will  ask  only  to  be  kept  in  con- 
tact with  his  prompter,  and  in  the  driving  feats  this  is 
simply  the  touching  of  their  feet  or  knees  together. 

In  view  of  what  has  already  been  set  forth,  this 
need  not  seem  at  all  strange.  If  we  can  suppose 
the  groups  of  undulations  in  the  brain  of  the 
prompter  to  have  such  force  as  to  extend  to  that  of 
the  recipient  and  agent,  and  then  to  be  discharged 
to  the  muscles  of  the  mind-reader,  just  as  they 
would  have  been  discharged  into  the  muscles  of  his 
prompter,  there  is  nothing  more  inexplicable  in  it 
than  there  is  in  the  fact  that  one's  own  muscles  are 
obedient  to  the  brain  that  directs  them. 

EXPERIENCE  OF  MOLLIE  FANCHEK. 

There  are,  however,  phenomena  of  this  class  still 
more  remarkable,  still  harder  to  believe,  and  yet  far 
better  authenticated  than  the  facts  in  any  system 
of  theology  in  existence.  In  this  category  may  be 
included  the  well-known  case  of  Miss  MoUie  Fancher, 
of  Brooklyn.  One  particular  instance  in  her  history 
is  especially  in  point.     A  number  of  most  trustworthy 


yo  The  Philosophy  of  Memory. 

gentlemen  having  clipped  into  small  pieces  a  leaf  of 
a  book,  which  in  order  to  prevent  impressions  being 
made  on  their  minds  they  were  careful  not  to  read 
nor  even  to  see,  they  by  turns  put  the  pieces  into 
three  envelopes,  one  within  the  other,  and  submitted 
the  package  to  Miss  Fancher. 
'\  She  passed  it  over  her  forehead,  and  then,  with 
her  hands  behind  her  head,  wrote  out  the  contents. 
Every  now  and  then  she  would  make  a  mark  for  a 
blank  and  then  proceed  with  the  writing. 

What  was  the  surprise  of  the  investigators  to 
find,  on  reaching  home  and  placing  the  pieces 
together  in  their  right  order,  that  the  dashes  corre- 
sponded with  certain  of  the  clippings  that  they  had 
unwittingly  let  fall  and  left  at  home  on  the  floor,  and 
that  otherwise  the  original  had  been  accurately 
reproduced  !  True  enough  this  was  not  mind-read- 
ing, but  it  serves  to  illustrate  the  action  of  insensible 
waves  on  a  most  delicately  organized  brain. 

We  have  here  to  suppose  that  delicate  and  subtle 
undulations,  probably  related  to  fluorescent  or  phos- 
phorescent rays,  were  given  off  from  these  clippings 
and  reached  Miss  Fancher's  brain  somewhat  in  the 
way  that  colors  make  their  impress  on  the  brains  of 
the  blind.  We  must  further  assume  a  brain  so  sen- 
sitive that  it  could  focus  the  bits  of  paper  as  the  eye 
does  visible  objects,  or  measure  the  distance  by  dif- 
ferences in  the  vibratory  force  of  the  emanations, 
and  being  so  retained  in  mental  vision  they  could  be 
so'-ted  out  and  arranged  in  a  manner  similar  to  that 
pursued  by  the  experimenters  themselves  in  making 
proof  of  the  translation. 


TJic  PJiilosophy  of  Mejiiory.  yi 

We  may  safely  say  that  there  is  no  hmit  to  in- 
sight of  this  character  except  the  dullness  and  coarse- 
ness of  our  nervous  organism.  Nature  everywhere 
around  us  must  needs  be  vibrant  with  revelation  if 
we  were  only  so  organized  as  to  be  able  to  receive  it. 

EMPHASIS    AND    INFLECTION. 

When  a  tuning-fork,  a  string,  or  a  pendulum  is 
set  to  vibrating,  the  amplitude  or  extent  of  excur- 
sion of  the  vibrating  body  on  the  two  sides  of  the 
middle  point  or  the  point  of  rest  is  the  same.  That 
is  to  say,  as  far  as  the  vibrating  body  goes  in  one 
direction  it  will  go  also  in  the  other.  In  another 
than  the  ordinary  sense,  action  and  reaction  will 
be  equal. 

Close  observation  will  show  that  this  law  oper- 
ates to  govern  emphasis  and  inflection  in  speech  and 
even  the  structure  of  sentences.  Few  things  add 
more  to  the  beauty  of  composition  than  the  proper 
balance  of  clauses.  If  one  should  quote  the  maxim, 
' '  I  was  once  young  but  now  am  old,  yet  have  I 
never  seen  the  righteous  cast  down,"  he  would  feel 
that  it  was  incomplete,  the  introduction  outweigh- 
ing the  conclusion,  and  a  sense  of  relief  would  be 
brought  by  adding  the  clause,  ' '  nor  his  seed  begging 
bread." 

A  question  and  answer  together  constitute  a  har- 
monic period  ;  the  voice  goes  up  in  asking  the  ques- 
tion and  comes  down  equally  in  giving  the  answer. 
This  may  be  observed  even  among  lower  animals. 
A  lamb,  a  calf,  or  a  colt  will  bleat  or  whicker  with 
the  rising  inflection,  as  much  as  to  say,  ' '  Where  is 


72  riw  J-'/ii/osop/iy  of  Memory. 

my  mother?  "  and  the  mother  will  answer  with  the 
falling  inflection  equally  as  plainly,  "She  is  here. " 
Emphasis  can  be  successfully  subjected  to  analysis 
with  like  results. 

If  one  word  in  a  sentence  or  the  words  express- 
ing one  idea  is  the  subject  of  emphasis,  some  other 
word  or  set  of  words  must  receive  an  equal  amount 
of  emphasis  in  an  opposite  direction  ;  that  is,  in  the 
rhythmical  excursion  the  positive  and  negative  elon- 
gations must  be  equal.  An  entire  chapter,  however, 
would  be  required  to  fully  set  forth  the  principle  in 
the  fullness  of  its  application  in  this  connection.  It 
must  suffice  here  to  claim  that  emphasis  and  inflec- 
tion are  decomposable  into  the  finest  vibrations  — 
even  the  ether  vibrations. 

THE    SOURCE    OF    MORAL    LAW. 

As  a  corollary  to  the  doctrines  herein  hinted  at, 
when  referring  to  the  law  of  beauty  it  must  follow 
that  all  recognition  of  truth  or  the  true  standard  of 
the  fitness  of  things  is  the  result  of  an  attempt  of 
the  mind  to  harmonize  impressions  received  by  it 
from  without  with  the  rule  framed  for  its  guidance 
by  means  of  the  orderly  undulations  of  ether,  mani- 
fested in  the  transmission  of  radiant  force. 

Out  of  the  various  combinations  of  the  rich  store 
of  accumulated  undulations  coming  to  us  originally 
either  directly  or  indirectly,  in  the  shape  of  light  or 
heat  or  actinism,  from  the  realm  of  space,  forms  of 
beauty  spring  into  being  under  the  painter's  pencil, 
grand  symphonies  awake  under  the  musician's  touch, 
immortal  verse  takes  form  of  life  in  the  poet's  fancy, 


The  Philosophy  of  Memory.  73 

while  those  who  under  their  guidance  seek  out  the 
"  old  paths"  of  justice  and  virtue  and  love  and  walk 
therein  may  listen  to  sweet  whisperings  of  rest  and 
peace. 

This  all-pervading  harmony  is  the  standard  of 
truth  for  the  universe,  and  if  other  worlds  are 
peopled  by  sentient  and  intelligent  beings  their 
feelings,  tastes,  and  even  moral  laws  must  be  sub- 
stantially the  same  as  our  own. 

It  is  fair  to  infer  from  the  premises  assumed 
that  the  character  of  feelings  and  emotions,  as  being 
pleasant  or  painful,  depends  upon  and  is  determined 
by  the  character  and  mode  of  combination  of  the 
undulations  that  compose  them.  The  gentle  and 
harmonious  undulations  are  supposed  to  constitute 
the  pleasant,  while  the  inharmoniously  combined 
compose  the  unpleasant  feelings  and  emotions. 

Pain  in  memory  ceases  to  be  pain  as  the  undu- 
lations which  are  the  cause  and  record  of  it  in  the 
mind  become  slower,  more  gentle  and  regular  with 
time.  If  we  are  aroused  to  harsh  feelings  toward 
our  fellow-men,  feelings  of  anger  or  resentment,  our 
experience  nevertheless  teaches  us  that  there  will 
come  a  time  when  the  wave  groups  in  memory  will 
be  more  in  harmony  with  the  conduct  we  were  led 
to  condemn  than  with  our  own  at  the  time  when 
the  fancied  wrongs  were  fresh. 

We  therefore  anticipate  and  pursue  that  course 
that  we  know  nature  will  in  the  lapse  of  time  crown 
with  the  approval  of  our  own  conscience.  We  there- 
fore repent  or  we  forgive.  All  harsh  feelings  and 
emotions  representing  violent  or  abrupt  disturbances 


74  The  Philosophy  of  Metnory. 

of  consciousness  must  in  the  very  nature  of  things, 
if  left  to  themselves,  take  on  a  more  congenial  char- 
acter, and  feelings  of  hate,  as  the  undulations  that 
give  rise  to  them  lose  their  harshness  and  their 
character  of  disorder,  are  changed  into  forgiveness. 
It  is  a  common  lesson  of  history  that  the  party  of 
mercy  is  ever  the  one  that  in  the  end  gains  the 
world's  approval.  "  Blessed  are  the  merciful,  for 
they  shall  obtain  mercy,"  is  a  precept  accepted  as 
divine  ;  and  one  who  read  the  book  of  nature  with 
the  eye  of  a  seer  has  told  us  that 

' '  The  quality  of  mercy  is  not  strained  ; 
It  droppeth  like  the  gentle  dew  from  heaven." 

Indeed,  if  hate  were  not  fed  with  food  of  unending 
wrong  it  would  fade  from  among  men.  It  is  evan- 
escent in  its  very  nature.  And  to  pretend  that  there 
is  a  being  of  infinite  power  and  wisdom  who  yet  can 
indulge  eternal  hate,  is  to  pretend  that  a  being  of 
wisdom  and  justice  and  love  eternally  violates  laws 
whose  author  he  must  be  in  order  to  be  at  all. 

CONSCIENCE. 

What  else  is  conscience,  then,  than  this  orderly 
operation  of  ether  vibrations  with  respect  to  the 
affairs  of  life  and  to  conduct  in  general } 

We  have  seen  the  vine,  while  trying  to  climb  the 
wall  with  the  help  of  its  tendrils  and  finding  nothing 
it  could  grasp,  expand  the  tips  of  its  tendrils  into 
suckers,  and  with  these  proceed  to  perform  its  duty 
of  offering  its  flower-buds  to  the  sun. 


The  Philosophy  of  Memory.  75 

Can  any  one  doubt  that  in  the  protoplasmic  mass 
of  its  cells,  which  is  the  seat  of  its  life,  there  existed 
an  instability,  an  erethism,  a  sense  of  uneasiness, 
according  to  the  plant-standard  of  such  things,  that 
was  relieved  when  the  vine  had  obeyed  its  impulse 
and  the  sucker  had  been  substituted  for  the  tendril? 

Lower  animals  of  many  kinds,  after  having  inflicted 
injuries  on  others  or  on  men,  have  given  every  evi- 
dence of  a  sentiment  of  regret. 

The  behavior  of  gregarious  animals  toward  each 
other,  as  indeed  the  whole  comity  of  animal  life 
throughout  nature,  is  based  upon  the  operation  of  a 
principle  that  is  essentially  conscience. 

Animals  are  necessarily  prompted  by  some  mon- 
itor, indicating  the  spirit  they  are  to  manifest  toward 
their  fellows,  and  that  same  monitor  either  approves 
or  disapproves  their  behavior. 

The  musician  hangs  with  rapt  attention  upon  the 
harmony,  the  melody,  the  truth  of  his  music.  To 
him  discord  is  pain,  is  a  species  of  sin,  while  a  vivid 
pleasure  is  afforded  when  the  right  notes  are  found 
and  the  harmonies  attained. 

So  with  that  higher  harmony,  that  loftier  music 
whose  keys  are  touched  by  the  fingers  of  the  ether 
waves,  and  to  which  the  soul  in  search  of  happiness 
must  keep  time  submissively. 

The  broad,  perpetual,  eternal  operation  of  the 
ether  waves  make  everywhere  for  kindness,  for 
peace  and  order,  a  seeming  departure  appearing 
only  on  the  by-paths  of  selfish  interests  growing  out 
of  the  necessities  of  individual  and  race  preservation. 

Sin  and  wrong  and  violence  and  hate  are  but  the 


7^  The  Philosophy  of  Memory. 

little  counter-currents  of  self  in  the  vast  river-flow 
of  peace  and  love  that  sv^^eep  forever  through  the 
universe. 

Conscience  is  an  ether  lesson  taught  in  greater 
or  less  completeness  to  every  living  thing. 

THE   RELIGIOUS  FEELING. 

We  have  assumed  thus  far  that  all  mental  affec- 
tions are  due  to  undulations  in  the  brain  aroused 
or  produced  by  others  from  without.  We  have  also 
briefly  considered  the  probability  that  not  all  the 
undulations  from  external  sources  find  correspond- 
ing ones  in  the  cells  of  the  brain.  We  will  now 
pursue  farther  the  suggestion  that  there  can  be  no 
response  to  undulations  from  external  sources  except 
where  the  internal  structures  are  attuned  to  the 
vibrations  they  receive. 

If  a  number  of  tuning-forks  be  placed  in  position 
in  a  room,  and  another  be  set  in  motion,  or  sounded 
in  the  same  room,  all  the  tuning-forks  in  the  collec- 
tion that  are  of  the  same  pitch  with  the  one  sounded, 
and  no  other,  will  likewise  be  set  in  motion. 

Likewise,  if  a  number  of  clocks  be  set  on  a  shelf, 
and  the  pendulum  of  one  of  them  be  set  to  swing- 
ing, all  the  other  clocks  of  the  same  length  of  pen- 
dulum will  likewise  start  to  running,  while  the  others 
will  not  be  affected.  Such  facts  lend  an  air  of  reason 
to  the  inference  that  all  vibrations  that  reach  the 
brain  through  the  senses  are  lost  except  those  that 
find  vibrations  there  of  an  amplitude  and  intensity 
fairly  identical  with  their  own.  Again,  among  the 
revelations  of  the  spectroscope  is  the  fact  that  exactly 


The  Philosophy  of  Memory.  yy 

the  kind  of  light  absorbed  by  any  substance  while  in 
a  state  of  vapor  will  be  given  out  by  that  substance 
when  made  self-luminous. 

Sodium,  for  instance,  when  in  the  condition  of 
vapor  absorbs  only  the  yellow  rays  of  light,  and 
when  made  self-luminous  gives  only  yellow  light. 
It  is  not  then  a  violent  assumption  that  in  the  process 
of  decomposition  organic  substances  also  give  out  the 
same  forms  of  force  that  were  absorbed  by  them 
from  the  sun  and  other  luminaries  during  their 
growth. 

It  is  these  undulations  that  must  be  in  the  brain 
and  perform  its  work  from  the  time  of  its  first  active 
existence.  They  are  there  before  the  young  being 
has  experienced  sight  or  hearing,  touch,  smell,  or 
taste.  And  it  may  be,  and  probably  is,  only  these 
undulations,  gathered  and  incorporated  by  our  food 
during  its  growth  and  given  out  in  the  nutrition  of 
our  tissues,  that  are  re-enforced  and  shaped  into 
thought  and  feeling  by  others  coming  through  the 
senses  from  without. 

Now  there  enter  into  certain  of  our  ideas  and 
emotions  something  that  may  not  consistently  be 
ascribed  to  any  of  the  influences  hitherto  referred 
to  as  operating  in  our  minds.  We  may  confidently 
assume  that  whatever  be  the  origin  of  life,  we 
now  witness  no  miracles.  Every  animal  in  every 
part,  every  leaf  in  its  pattern  of  shapeliness,  every 
flower  with  its  charm  of  fragrance  and  beauty,  every 
fruit  in  its  richness  and  flavor,  whatever  may  have 
been  the  beginning,  is  now  built  up  and  developed 
by  the  forces  of  nature  playing  on  it  chiefly  from 


78  The  P/iilosophj'  of  Memory. 

the  worlds  beyond.  It  is  the  little  waves  of  ether 
coming  mostly  from  the  sun  that  build  up  the  plant, 
and  by  their  ceaseless  pelting  drive  every  atom  and 
every  molecule  to  its  place. 

Animal  life  derives  nearly  if  not  all  its  nutritive 
support  from  the  plant,  and  thus  directly  or  indi- 
rectly from  these  same  ethereal  waves,  that  are  light 
and  heat  and  chemism  and  the  like,  all  of  man 
except  perhaps  the  mysterious  soul  that  animates  him 
must  ultimately  be  derived. 

But  we  get  light  and  its  kindred  forces  from 
other  sources  than  the  sun,  and,  pursuing  the  inquiry, 
we  shall  learn  that  if  the  worship  of  the  sun  was  an 
unconscious  recognition  of  the  power  it  exerts  in  the 
maintenance  of  life,  those  who  placed  their  deities 
among  the  stars  may  have  approached  still  nearer  to 
the  proximate  source  of  the  tenderest  feelings  that 
contribute  to  the  pleasures  of  earthly  existence, 
namely,    religion  and  love. 

For,  aside  from  any  special  doctrine  of  religious 
experience  and  of  fancied  revelation,  a  religious 
feeling  pervades  the  human  race.  Not  only  so,  but 
a  similar  feeling  is,  without  doubt,  experienced  by 
lower  animals.  The  multifarious  theologies  that  dot 
history  and  geography  are  but  the  outgrowth  of,  or 
inventions  made  to  gratify,  the  craving  of  the  religious 
feeling,  planted  from  the  beginning  in  every  human 
breast. 

Now,  it  has  been  conjectured  that  every  inch  of 
space  in  the  whole  vault  of  the  heavens  is  occupied 
by  the  surface  of  a  sun,  and  that  somewhere  in 
infinite  space  the  rays  of   light  must  be  dissipated 


The  Philosophy  of  Memory.  79 

and  lost,  since  otherwise  the  entire  vault  must  needs 
be  a  solidly  luminous  expanse.  And,  furthermore, 
that  the  rays  of  light  and  heat  and  their  like  are  lost 
to  all  human  sense  somewhere  in  measureless  space 
is  a  conclusion  that  would  naturally  follow  from  the 
laws  by  which  their  transmission  is  probably  gov- 
erned. For  since,  as  we  have  seen  reason  to 
believe,  though  it  may  not  be  as  yet  borne  out  by 
direct  observation,  the  undulations  of  which  radiant 
force  consists  grow  weaker  as  they  advance  through 
space,  they  must  somewhere  become  too  weak  to 
produce  impressions  as  light  or  heat.  While,  then, 
these  forms  of  force,  with  such  others  as  may  have 
the  power  of  producing  sensations  or  otherwise 
affecting  the  mind,  are  subsiding  below  the  point  of 
intensity  at  which  they  may  produce  sensations, 
might  they  not  still  impress  the  soul  through  the 
apparatus  of  mind  as  the  gentlest  and  most  agree- 
able of  all  the  influences  it  is  capable  of  receiving  ? 

Might  it  not  be  that  the  light  from  the  farthest 
stars,  softened  during  its  immeasurable  journey, 
has  become  organized  in  the  food  we  eat,  to  be  given 
out  in  nutrition  for  the  building  up  of  cells,  and 
capable  there  of  responding  in  kind  to  brother  waves 
coming  directly  from  the  original  source .'' 

If  this  be  true,  then  as  naturally  as  the  sun  and 
stars  give  out  their  light  would  the  mind  dispense 
this  store  of  gentle  forces,  and  most  naturally  too 
in  the  way  in  which  it  came,  "For  love  and  love 
only  is  the  loan  for  love." 

Or  back  toward  its  transformed  and  personified 
author  the  soul  would  direct  it,  the  very  essence  of 


8o  The  Philosophy  of  Memory. 

love — Religion  !  Dominated  and  prompted  by  such 
influences,  it  is  little  wonder  that  men  in  all  lands 
and  in  all  ages  are  led  to  the  choice  of  deities  who 
might  be  regarded  as  the  adequate  source  of  all  that 
is  gentlest  and  best  in  their  minds  and  hearts.  Influ- 
ences exerted  by  the  stars  may  then  have  much  to 
do  in  directing  the  course  of  life  on  earth.  Their 
smiles  beaming  from  the  skies  can  not  be  altogether 
lost. 

' '  Canst  thou  bind  the  sweet  influences  of  the 
Pleiades.'"'  are  words  Job  puts  into  the  mouth  of 
Jehovah  himself.  There  is  not  in  the  brilliance  of 
the  sun  that  which  can  produce  the  most  pleasurable 
feelings  we  are  capable  of  experiencing.  Pleasant 
reveries,  tender  wooings  do  not  seek  his  glare,  but 
court  the  starlight  rather.  If  all  this  be  true,  the 
sun  is  most  probably  not  the  instrument  employed 
in  calling  the  gentlest  of  all  our  feelings  into  being, 
for  as  upon  an  axiom  we  may  rest  in  the  assumption 
that  there  can  be  no  evolution  without  an  equiva- 
lent antecedent  involution. 

No  creature  is  greater  than  its  creator,  no  foun- 
tain can  rise  above  its  source.  The  tenderest  feel- 
ings, then,  the  heart  can  know  must  have  a  higher 
origin,  a  gentler  cause,  than  that  of  the  familiar 
forms  of  force  ;  and  nothing  appears  as  their  proxi- 
mate source  except  the  fading  undulations  of  light 
as  they  journey  through  infinite  space — the  ' '  sweet 
influences  of  the  Pleiades." 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  EMPHASIS 


THE   PHYSICAL  BASIS  OF  VOCAL 
INFLECTION 


INTRODUCTORY. 

The  following  incomplete  discussion  of  the 
nature  and  cause  of  emphasis,  strictly  speaking, 
forms  a  part  of  another  essay,  "The  Philosophy 
of  Memory." 

But  finding  that  it  could  not  be  at  all  satisfac- 
torily treated  in  that  connection  without  making  a 
somewhat  clumsy  episode,  it  has  here  been  taken 
up  separately  at  some  risk  of  repetition. 

The  discussion  of  the  subject  is  almost  neces- 
sarily cursory,  the  aim  being  merely  to  indicate 
the  principle,  without  entering  with  any  fullness 
into  details.  Indeed,  it  is  a  subject  that  can  not 
be  treated  satisfactorily  unless*  it  be  done  orally, 
since  hardly  a  tithe  of  the  modifications  of  the 
voice  and  their  meanings  have  ever  been  indi- 
cated   in  writing. 


83 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  EMPHASIS. 

THE  child  from  its  first  attainment  of  the  power 
of  speech  is  able  to  express  its  feelings  and 
desires  by  emphasis  and  inflection  in  a  way  that,  in 
so  far  as  its  understanding  goes,  is  not  surpassed  in 
the  highest  state  of  its  subsequent  mental  develop- 
ment. The  rules  of  emphasis  and  inflection  are  of 
universal  application  ;  for  children  in  all  lands,  and 
adults  also,  where  they  have  not  been  disqualified 
by  the  acquirement  of  bad  habits  of  expression, 
observe  the  same  rules  and  employ  the  same  char- 
acter of  inflection  and  emphasis  for  the  expression 
of  like  classes  of  feelings  and  ideas. 

No  one  who  has  closely  observed  the  expressive 
modulations  of  voice  among  children  just  learning 
to  talk  will  contend  that  the  child  is  under  the 
necessity  of  learning  the  rules  of  emphasis  from  any 
teacher,  and  it  is  probable  that  inflection  also,  as 
well  as  every  other  form  of  appropriate  intonation, 
is  intuitively  made  and  intuitively  understood. 

Certainly,  then,  it  would  seem  that  we  ought  to  be 
able  to  understand  that  which  children  come  by  so 
easily,  so  correctly  and  universally,  and  to  be  able 
to  discover  and  develop  the  laws  by  which  empha- 
sis, inflection,  and  other  expressive  intonations  are 
governed.  But  in  so  far  as  the  writer  has  been  able 
to  ascertain,  not  even  an  attempt  has  been  hitherto 
made  to  develop  the  philosophy  of  a  class  of  the 
most  important  elements  in  expression,  and  one  of 


86  The  Philosophy  of  Emphasis. 

the  most  indispensable  aids  in  the  communication 
of  thought.  It  remains  to  be  seen  whether  or  not, 
by  a  dihgent  study  of  the  problem  in  the  light  of 
analogy  and  evolution,  we  may  reach  a  satisfactory 
solution  and  in  some  degree  subject  the  phenomena 
to  a  rational  interpretation. 

First  let  us  inquire  why  it  is  that  a  child  empha- 
sizes any  given  word  in  a  sentence.  It  is  obvious 
that  he  does  so,  not  because  he  has  calculated  that 
it  will  impress  the  hearer  more  forcibly,  or  that  it 
is  in  any  way  necessary  to  speak  certain  words  or 
groups  of  words  with  more  force  than  others.  To 
claim  this  would  be  to  accord  him  a  degree  of  intelli- 
gence altogether  impossible  to  his  years.  He  em- 
phasizes particular  words  because  they  give  expres- 
sion to  thoughts  and  feelings  that  deeply  impress  his 
consciousness.  He  is  simply  responding  to  his  own 
instinctive  feelings  and  promptings  while  trying  to 
relieve  his  mind  of  an  uneasy  burden.  But  there 
must  be  something  behind  this  still  ;  and  the  origin 
of  the  observed  effects  we  must  seek  in  the  opera- 
tion of  some  yet  deeper  cause. 

We  must  therefore  inquire  further  what  it  is  that 
causes  certain  words  to  impress  the  child's  con- 
sciousness in  such  a  way  that  he  is  led  instinctively 
to  give  to  them  greater  force  of  enunciation  than  to 
others  used  in  the  same  connection.  In  this  search 
we  shall  find  that  the  next  step  beyond  this  in  the 
chain  of  causes  is  probably  the  intuitive  recogni- 
tion of  the  advantage  and  pleasure  of  contemplat- 
ing objects  separately — of  having  consciousness 
occupied  with  one  chief  thought  at  a  time. 


The  Philosophy  of  Emphasis.  %'J 

Even  in  more  advanced  life  most  people  realize 
a  pleasure  in  having  one  thought  occupying  con- 
sciousness to  the  partial  exclusion  of  others.  Indeed, 
in  the  very  organization  of  the  mind  it  is  provided 
that  thoughts  shall  pass  through  consciousness  in 
single  file,  so  to  speak,  and  that  actions  shall  be 
similarly  conditioned.  People  eating  do  not  usu- 
ally like  to  be  interrupted,  the  less  cultivated  feeling 
the  interruption  more  than  those  of  broader  mental 
training,  while  lower  animals  feel  interruptions  most 
of  all.  Still  the  thinker  likes  to  be  left  alone  with 
his  thoughts  and  the  artist  with  his  task. 

If  we  have  an  object  separated  and  placed  out 
by  itself,  it  is  very  easy  to  fix  the  attention  upon  it ; 
but  while  it  yet  forms  a  member  of  a  group,  this  is 
difficult.  If  we  contemplate  a  landscape,  for  in- 
stance, we  may  find  in  it  a  vague  pleasure,  but  this 
pleasure  is  livelier  still  when  we  consider  it  object 
by  object.  At  all  events  the  tendency  of  the  mind, 
the  drift  of  the  thoughts,  is  ever  in  the  direction 
of  the  contemplation  of  objects  separately,  or  of 
concrete  groups  that  answer  to  separate  objects. 

We  may  see  this  disposition  of  the  mind  mani- 
fested on  a  large  scale  in  history,  and  in  it  to  a  large 
degree  is  to  be  found  the  source  of  hero  worship.  It 
is  much  easier  to  select  one  who  happens  to  be  the 
most  prominent  man  in  an  episode  and  ascribe  to 
him  all  the  merit  that  is  due  for  some  great  action 
than  rightly  to  divide  and  award  his  share  to  each  of 
many  participants  ;  for  ' '  to  him  that  hath  shall  be 
given,  and  from  him  that  hath  not  shall  be  taken 
away  even  that  he  hath,"  is  a  maxim  grounded  in 
the  laws  of  attention. 


88  The  Philosophy  of  Emphasis. 

One  step  beyond  this  takes  us  probably  to  the 
limit  of  the  knowable  in  this  direction.  Why  this 
pleasure  in  the  contemplation,  disturbed  or  undis- 
turbed, of  objects  around  us,  or  the  ideas  which  are 
their  counterfeits  ? 

It  has  its  basis  in  the  love  of  knowing  inherent 
in  the  soul,  and  is  of  a  nature  similar  to  our  desire 
for  food  and  water,  our  love  of  pleasant  sounds,  and 
our  social  feelings  or  love  of  society.  It  is  the  hun- 
ger and  thirst  to  know^  that  has  become  organized 
within  us,  and  which  in  all  animate  things  takes  the 
form  which  we  denominate  curiosity. 

But  have  we  yet  reached  the  end  of  the  contem- 
plated chain  that  connects  curiosity  with  emphasis  ? 
Directly,  yes ;  but  there  is  a  collateral  link  that  we 
must  yet  consider ;  and  that  link  is  the  equivalence 
and  the  correlation  of  mental  and  physical  forces. 

Sir  William  Carpenter  long  ago  showed  how 
mental  energy  may  be  transformed  into  physical 
exertion,  and  the  doctrine  taught  by  him  has  become 
one  of  the  accepted  canons  of  science. 

Let  us  now,  in  the  light  of  this  teaching,  proceed 
to  put  together  our  chain  of  causes  and  endeavor  to 
get  a  connected  view  of  the  part  each  element  plays 
in  the  work  of  expression.  For  the  purpose  of  illus- 
tration we  will  suppose  a  shelf  to  be  occupied  by 
several  books  to  be  devoted  to  different  purposes. 

We  wish  to  sell  one,  it  matters  little  which ;  so 
we  gently  and  indifferently  take  one  and  separate 
it  far  enough  from  the  others  to  be  contemplated 
singly  by  the  prospective  purchaser.  There  is  one, 
however,    say  the   fifth   in  a   line,    that   belongs   to 


The  Philosophy  of  Emphasis.  89 

another  lot  and  has  been  wrongly  put  with  this.  If 
we  had  to  separate  this  physically  from  the  others 
we  would  effect  the  task  by  picking  it  up,  removing 
it  with  a  slight  show  of  force  from  the  others,  such  a 
show  of  force  as  would  be  needed  to  overcome  the 
very  slightest  resistance.  But  if  some  one  had  put  it 
back  in  that  place  after  it  had  been  once  removed 
by  our  order,  the  show  of  force  would  be  so  decided 
as  to  be  sufficient  to  overcome  a  considerable  resist- 
ance, in  addition  to  that  involved  in  the  mere  re- 
moval of  the  book.  This  would  likewise  be  the 
identical  course  pursued  by  a  person  deaf  and  dumb. 

If,  now,  instead  of  handling  the  books  ourselves, 
we  proceed  verbally  to  order  some  one  else  to  do 
so,  we  would  use  tones  corresponding  to  and  evi- 
dently intimately  related  to  our  own  actions  in  per- 
forming the  task  we  are  commanding. 

If  the  contemplated  action  related  to  the  fifth 
book,  the  word  fifth  would  be  emphasized  in  pro- 
portion as  the  desire  that  it  alone  should  be 
removed  or  dealt  with  occupies  our  attention,  and 
therefore  is  desired  to  be  impressed  upon  the  atten- 
tion of  others.  If,  now,  some  one  to  our  knowl- 
edge has  given  orders  for  the  removal  of  the  third, 
we  must  indicate  by  our  tone  in  the  emphasis  of 
fifth  not  only  that  the  fifth  is  to  be  taken  to  the 
exclusion  of  the  others,  but  we  must  add  sufficient 
force  to  the  emphasis  to  act  as  a  counterpart  or  a 
parallel  to  the  physical  effort  necessary  to  resist  the 
attempt  made  by  the  intruder  to  have  the  third 
taken  instead.  The  words,  in  their  tone  and  force, 
are  probably  in  every  case  the  correlate  of  the  cor- 
responding action. 


9©  The  Philosophy  of  Emphasis. 


ANTITHESIS. 

A  basis  of  emphasis,  as  very  commonly  recog- 
nized and  extensively  employed,  is  the  importance 
given  to  each  of  two  or  several  objects  by  mentally 
contrasting  or  comparing  them,  and  which  is  known 
as  antithesis.  Later  on  we  may  find  this  has  its 
source  in  the  unconscious  recognition  of  the  fact 
that  the  action  and  reaction  of  forces  are  equal  and 
opposite. 

There  are  two  modes  of  expressing  emphasis 
vocally,  one  by  stress  of  voice  and  the  other  by 
quantity,  and  both  have  their  physical  correlates ; 
both  can  be  expressed  by  action. 

The  less  intense  forms  of  emphasis  are  expressed 
by  stress  of  voice,  the  more  intense  by  quantity. 
Emphasis  is  not  necessarily  conveyed  in  words,  nor 
is  the  strongest  emphasis  conveyed  in  loud  tones. 
The  weight  almost  too  heavy  to  be  moved  is  the 
one  that  elicits  slow  and  deliberate  effort,  and  the 
feeling  strong  enough  almost  to  defy  and  baffle 
expression  enlists  the  whispered  monotone  in  its 
stubborn  utterance.  With  what  slow  and  measured 
monotone  must  Newton  have  emphasized  his  regret 
when  he  found  that  his  little  dog  had  destroyed  the 
papers  that  represented  two  years  of  his  most  ardu- 
ous labors  :  ' '  Diamond  !  Diamond  !  thou  knowest 
not  what  mischief  thou  hast  done  !  " 

The  grating,  incisive  tones  used  by  men  toward 
each  other  when  about  to  enter  into  deadly  conflict 
are  seldom  loud  or  marked  by  deep  stress  of  voice, 
but  often  uttered  with  much  quantity  and  in  an 
almost  whispered  monotone. 


The  Philosophy  of  Emphasis.  91 

As  intimated  before,  animals  that  have  neither 
word  nor  voice  are  capable  by  modes  of  physical 
movement  of  expressing  the  most  forceful  emphasis. 
And,  curiously  enough,  these  cases  present  the  most 
apt  illustrations  of  the  correlation  of  the  mental  and 
physical  forces.  Take  any  of  the  winged  insects 
armed  with  a  sting,  the  honey  bee,  for  example. 
When  about  to  attack  an  intruder  its  flight  toward 
the  object  of  attack  is  steady  and  deliberate,  and 
the  motion  of  its  wings  so  slow  that  the  insect  looks 
much  larger  than  it  really  is.  Many  have  thought 
that  the  purpose  of  its  slow  flight  was  to  allow  its 
wings  to  be  seen  in  order  that  it  might  appear  larger 
and  more  formidable  than  if  moving  with  ordinary 
speed. 

But  when  one  reflects  that  men  also  approach 
each  other  deliberately  and  somewhat  slowly  when 
about  to  engage  in  a  bitter  struggle,  and  that  this  is 
the  rule  with  all  or  nearly  all  animals  when  angered, 
a  better  explanation  appears  to  be  suggested. 

Since  mental  tension  is  the  correlate  of  the  phys- 
ical exertion,  and  capable  of  being  transformed 
into  it,  if  the  animal  were  to  advance  to  an  attack 
at  the  most  rapid  pace  possible  to  it,  such,  for 
instance,  as  it  retreats  with  when  put  to  flight,  it 
would  lose  the  courage  required  for  the  attack.  It 
is  probable,  also,  that  the  lion  lashes  with  his  tail, 
the  horse  backs  his  ears,  the  boar  reverses  his  hair 
and  raises  his  bristles,  and  the  rattlesnake  rattles,  not 
so  much  with  deliberate  intention  to  frighten  the  ad- 
versary, but  because  such  movements  are  somehow 
inseparable    from    the    efifort    to    restrain    physical 


92  The  Pliilosopliy  of  li?/iphasis. 

action  until  there  is  accumulated  a  sufficient  degree 
of  mental  and  physical  tension  to  prepare  the  ani- 
mal for  the  impending  conflict.  They  are  but  the 
accidental  overflow  of  energy  accumulating  in  the 
form  of  courage. 

The  animal  is  literally  nursing  its  wrath  to  keep 
it  warm. 

This  is  not  a  contradiction  of  Darwin's  conclu- 
sion that  some  of  these  acts  have  proved  of  protect- 
ive advantage  to  the  animals  resorting  to  them,  or 
rather  upon  whom  they  have  been  imposed  by  rea- 
son of  the  intimidating  impression  they  make  upon 
the  adversary.  If  the  horse  backs  his  ears  seem- 
ingly to  keep  them  from  being  bitten,  if  other  ani- 
mals take  on  an  aspect  in  anger  that  is  of  advantage 
to  them  in  conflict,  it  does  not  necessarily  militate 
against  the  conclusion  that  the  origin  of  these  acts 
was  in  the  greater  necessity  of  securing  through 
mental  tension  the  proper  courage. 

A  still  deeper  analysis,  if  possible  to  be  made, 
would  doubtless  show  that  their  ultimate  source  is 
in  the  class  of  mind  vibrations  appropriate  to  each 
act  with  which  they  are  strictly  correlated. 

INFLECTION. 

We  now  come  to  another  mode  of  conveying 
variety  of  meaning,  the  form  of  emphasis  known  as 
inflection.  Here,  too,  the  mental  state  indicated  by 
the  form  of  vocal  expression  has  an  equivalent  form 
of  physical  expression,  and  both  are  probably  based 
on  a  deep  underlying  law  governing  the  operation 
of  force. 


The  Philosophy  of  Emphasis.  93 

Thus  a  demand  or  an  unfinished  action  would  be 
expressed  by  one  deaf  and  dumb,  or  by  an  animal, 
by  an  attitude  or  movement  of  aggression  or  confi- 
dent expectancy,  such  as  holding  up  the  head  or 
leaning  forward.  A  concession  or  yielding,  on  the 
other  hand,  would  be  indicated  by  an  attitude  of 
relaxation  or  shrinking  back.  So  when  a  vocal 
demand  is  made,  or  a  question  is  asked  that  requires 
a  direct  answer,  the  rising  inflection  is  used  because 
this  indicates  aggression.  On  the  other  hand,  when 
an  answer  is  given  which  is  intended  as  a  satisfaction 
to  the  question,  or  a  request  is  granted,  it  is  felt  to 
be  an  end  to  the  effort,  and  the  falling  inflection  is 
employed. 

This  holds  good  in  some  form  in  every  grade  of 
animal  life.  Any  one  who  has  chased  cattle,  espe- 
cially the  mischievous  boy  who  has  chased  young 
cattle  till  they  have  become  exhausted,  knows  how, 
when  overcome,  they  give  a  peculiar  bellow  with  the 
falling  inflection  that  announces  the  end  of  resist- 
ance and  their  submission  to  the  will  of  the  pur- 
suers. It  may  be  observed  in  the  deadly  struggle  of 
foxes,  raccoons,  and  other  courageous  animals  with 
dogs.  When  first  caught  all  their  cries  have  the 
rising  inflection,  indicating  anger,  defiance,  and 
aggression.  But  when  all  their  mental  energies,  all 
their  powers  of  resentment  and  of  heart  inhibition 
have  been  overcome,  they  cry  out  with  a  wail  hav- 
ing the  falling  inflection,  which  plainly  indicates 
that  the  struggle  is  over ;  the  sauve  qui  peut^  as  it 
were,  of  hopeless  defeat  and  utter  despair.  Even 
the    fierce    tiger,    among    whose    progenitors    this 


94  The  Philosophy  of  Emphasis. 

sound  may  never  have  been  uttered  since  the  first 
evolution  of  his  royal  race,  if  fought  to  the  death 
by  an  antagonist  of  overwhelming  power,  would 
doubtless  yield  the  battle  and  his  life  in  this  de- 
spairing wail  with  the  falling  inflection.  Beasts  and 
men  alike  do  not  need  to  learn  it ;  it  comes  to  them 
with  the  forces  of  nature  that  organize  their  being, 
and  it  is  probably  the  same  for  all  animal  life  in  the 
universe. 

But  what  of  the  inflection  known  as  the  circum- 
flex ^  Here  there  seems  also  to  be  a  subtle  and 
unconscious  recognition  of  the  equality  of  the  action 
and  reaction  of  forces. 

Every  capable  writer  and  every  thoughtful  reader 
recognizes  the  requirement  of  a  certain  balance  in 
the  members  of  a  sentence — one  part  must  answer 
to  or  weigh  with  the  other.  If  a  sentence,  either 
simple  or  compound,  is  wanting  in  this  quality,  the 
mind  is  left  with  a  feeling  of  uneasiness  or  dissatis- 
faction. It  is  not  necessary  that  this  balancing  shall 
consist  of  an  equal  number  of  expressed  words  or 
ideas  in  each  of  the  reciprocal  parts. 

In  one  word  may  be  implied  the  significance  of 
many,  and  in  one  word  by  this  form  of  inflection 
may  be  expressed  the  significance  of  many.  Conse- 
quently one  word  may  be  sufflcient  to  balance  the 
weight  of  many  on  the  opposite  side.  The  idea 
may  be  illustrated  by  comparison  with  the  action  of 
balances  or  scales  when  used  in  weighing.  When 
the  arms  of  the  balance  are  equal  in  length,  the 
weight  put  upon  one  arm  is  counterpoised  by  an 
equal  weight  placed  upon  the  other.      But    if   one 


TJic  PJiilosophy  of  EinpJiasis.  95 

arm  is  long  and  the  other  is  short,  it  becomes  nec- 
essary to  add  a  greater  weight  to  the  shorter  arm  to 
balance  a  lighter  one  on  the  longer  arm. 

So  with  the  circumflex.  Thus,  in  the  sentence, 
"I  have  always  befriended  you,  and  yet  you  will 
not  now  befriend  me,"  the  two  parts  of  the  sen- 
tence balance,  and  we  have  merely  the  emphasis 
of  the  antithesis.  But  if  one  should  say,  ' '  I  have 
ever  been  your  friend,  I  have  stood  by  you  in  need, 
I  have  helped  you  in  want,  I  have  defended  you  in 
danger,  yet  now  when  I  need  your  assistance  you 
desert  me,"  the  word  "  desert "  must  here  have  the 
circumflex  strong  enough  (the  short  arm  of  the 
scales  must  be  tipped  with  force  enough )  to  coun- 
terbalance all  the  parts  which  go  to  make  up  the 
preceding  part  of  the  sentence,  and  which  answer 
to  the  weight  on  the  long  arm  in  the  illustration. 

So  in  the  words,  "Judas,  betrayest  thou  the  Son 
of  man  with  a  kiss.^"  we  may  suppose  the  force  of 
the  rising  circumflex  to  have  been  exhausted  in  the 
aim  to  balance  on  the  short  arm  of  the  scale  the 
history  of  three  years  of  association,  the  character 
of  the  victim,  and  the  baseness  of  the  means  of 
betrayal,  all  of  which  were  implied  in  the  circum- 
flex and  assumed  to  be  present  in  the  minds  of  both 
the  actors. 

Likewise  in  Caesar's  dying  rebuke,  ''Et  tu,  Brute!" 
the  three  words  counterbalance  a  lifetime  of  history 
expressed  by  implication  and  supposed  to  be  pres- 
ent in  the  minds  of  both,  pronounced,  as  they  doubt- 
less were,  with  the  fullness  of  the  falling  circumflex, 
as  the  lion  of  so  many  bloody  fields  lay  down  at  the 
foot  of  Pompey's  pillar. 


THE 

FUNCTIONS  OF  THE  FLUID  WEDGE 

—  OR. — 

THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPHERE-FORMING 


INTRODUCTORY. 

The  principle  involved  in  this  essay  first  sug- 
gested itself  to  the  author  while  engaged  in  studying 
the  origin  and  uses  of  the  contraction  ring  of  the 
uterus  in  connection  with  the  mechanism  of  labor. 

With  time  and  study  the  field  of  its  application 
grew,  until  finally  the  subject  attained  its  present 
dimensions. 

In  connection  with  this  essay  the  author  had 
prepared  another  intended  as  a  popular  exposition 
of  the  question  of  the  tides,  in  which  was  offered  a 
supplementary  theory  attributing  tides  in  part  to  the 
reflux  of  tide  masses  after  the  sun  and  moon  had 
raised  them  up,  and  then,  leaving  them  behind,  had 
allowed  them  to  fall  back. 

The  theory,  though  it  seemed  to  explain  some 
obscure  phenomena,  was  never  satisfactorily  intel- 
ligible, and  after  the  reading  of  the  masterly  popu- 
lar exposition  of  the  tides  by  Professor  George  H. 
Darwin  the  article  was  withdrawn,  though  it  had 
already  been  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  printer. 

The  principle  of  the  fluid  wedge,  in  so  far  as  the 
author  is  advised,  is  here  for  the  first  time  presented, 
but  it  is  offered  in  the  full  confidence  that  it  will 
in  all  essential  respects  commend  itself  to  reason. 


99 


THE  FUNCTIONS  OF  THE  FLUID 
WEDGE 

Or  the  Philosophy  of  Sphere-Forming. 

IF  the  finger  or  a  rod  be  thrust  into  a  glass  filled 
with  water,  the  water  will  rise  up  and  flow  out 
over  the  brim.  Now  the  water  thus  displaced  is 
not  lifted  up  directly,  but  only  indirectly,  and  if 
indirectly,  it  must  be  by  one  or  more  of  the  mechan- 
ical powers.  By  which  one  of  the  mechanical  pow- 
ers, then,  is  the  fluid  raised  ? 

Strictly  speaking,  there  are  but  two  mechanical 
powers,  namely,  the  lever  and  the  inclined  plane. 
The  lever,  besides  the  different  forms  it  takes  as 
such,  is  also  modified  into  the  wheel  and  pulley, 
while  the  inclined  plane  is  modified  into  the  screw 
and  various  forms  of  wedges. 

In  the  elevation  of  the  water  in  the  vessel  in  the 
case  cited  there  is  clearly  no  leverage  involved,  and 
a  little  reflection  will  show  conclusively  that  the  ele- 
vation is  effected  by  means  of  the  double  inclined 
plane  or  wedge,  which  wedge  in  this  case  is  fluid  or 
liquid. 

Now,  any  given  mass  of  fluid  or  liquid  may,  as 
relates  to  the  transmission  of  pressure,  be  regarded 
as  consisting  of  an  indefinite  number  of  wedges, 
extending  in  all  directions  and  moving  upon  each 
other  as  solid  wedges  without  friction. 


102 


The  Functions  of  the  Fluid  Wedge. 


Let  us  take,  for  example,  an  inclosed  cubical  mass 
of  water  (  Fig.  i  )  and  conceive  it  to  be  divided  into 
two  equal  wedges,  A  and  B. 

It  is  quite  obvious  that  as  regards  the  transmis- 
sion of  stress  or  pressure  the  two  wedges  will 
behave  exactly  as  if  they  were  both  solid  and  mov- 
ing upon  each  other  practically  without  friction. 
For  whatever  support  A  may  receive  from  B  and 


the  walls  of  the  containing  vessel  will  be  counter- 
balanced by  an  equal  support  that  A  will  return  to 
B  and  the  walls  of  the  containing  vessel,  and  recip- 
rocally ;  each  wedge  will  therefore  have  the  func- 
tions and  force  of  a  solid  wedge. 


WHY    P^LEXIBLE    TUBES    BECOME  ROUND. 

If  now,  instead  of  a  cubical  vessel,  this  water  is 
inclosed  in  a  flattened,  flexible  tube,  such  as  a  piece 
of  rubber  hose,  for  instance,  and  we  conceive  the 
liquid  in  the  end  of  a  section  of  that  tube  ( Fig.  2 ) 
to  be  divided  into  wedges  with  their  bases  of  uniform 
areas  and  resting  on  the  wall  of  the  tube,  while 
their  apexes  meet  at  the  center,  it  is  evident  that 


The  Functions  of  the  Fluid  Wedge.  103 

the  wedges  A  and  B  laid  off  in  the  largest  diameter 
of  the  tube  will  be  longer,  more  slender,  and  there- 
fore more  acute  than  the  wedges  C  and  D  laid  off 
in  the  shortest  diameter.  It  is  also  obvious  that 
whatever  support  any  one  of  these  wedges  might 
derive  from  the  other  wedges  into  which  the  section 
of  the  tube  is  divided  will  be  yielded  back  by  it  in 
return. 


Fig.  2. 

Let  us  now  suppose  pressure  to  be  applied 
equally  to  the  bases  of  all  these  wedges,  which  may 
be  done  by  forcing  water  into  the  tube.  Since  A 
and  B  are  more  acute  than  C  and  D,  they  will 
advance  more  easily  under  a  given  stress  or  pres- 
sure, and  consequently  C  and  D  will  be  forced  back 
from  the  center,  their  bases  carrying  before  them 
the  flattened  sides  of  the  tube  wall,  until  all  the 
wedges  become  of  equal  length  and  the  tube 
becomes  cylindrical. 

WHY    THE    SOAP    BUBBLE     IS    A    SPHERE. 

The  tendency  of  air  bubbles  to  take  on  a  spher- 
ical form  must  have  been  among  the  earliest  ob- 
served physical  facts.      Almost  equally  familiar  must 


I04  The  Functions  of  the  Fluid  Wedge. 

have  been  the  tendency  of  Hquids  to  form  spheres 
when  their  particles  are  left  free  to  exert  their 
attraction  upon  each  other.  No  explanation  of 
these  facts,  however,  based  upon  definite  principles 
and  a  final  analysis  has  ever  yet  been  given,  in  so 
far  as  the  writer  is  aware,  unless  the  mathematical 
demonstrations  based  on  surface  tension  might  be 
called  such.  On  the  hypothesis  of  the  fluid  wedge 
the  explanation  becomes  simple  and  easy. 

But  now,  instead  of  the  end  of  a  flattened  tube, 
let  the  previous  drawing  (Fig.  2)  represent  a  section 
of  a  closed  sack  of  such  construction  as  to  be  sus- 
ceptible of  being  extended  into  a  sphere,  but  only 
partly  or  laxly  filled,  and  therefore  somewhat  flat- 
tened. The  inclosed  wedges  will  now  be  replaced 
by  cones,  with  their  bases  to  the  wall  and  their 
apexes  to  the  center  of  the  mass  of  fluid. 

As  with  the  wedges,  these  cones  will  also  mutu- 
ally support  each  other  and  move  upon  each  other 
practically  without  friction. 

If  we  proceed  to  subject  these  cones  to  pressure 
by  forcing  fluid  into  the  containing  envelope — say  a 
rubber  toy  balloon  —  the  longer  cones  or  wedges  A 
and  B  will  advance  more  readily  than  C  and  D,  and 
since  all  the  longer  or  more  acute  cones  or  wedges 
will  in  a  proportionate  degree  advance  more  readily 
than  the  shorter  or  more  obtuse  ones,  the  latter 
will  be  driven  back  and  will  carry  the  wall  of  the 
containing  envelope  before  them  until  all  become 
of  equal  length  and  equal  volume.  The  fluid  with 
its  envelope  will  then  have  become  a  perfect  sphere, 
and  all  its  parts  will  be  in  equilibrium. 


TJic  Functions  of  the  Fluid  Wedge.  105 


WHY    RAINDROPS     FORM    SPHERES. 

If,  however,  instead  of  a  pressure  from  without 
upon  a  fluid  confined  within  a  containing  membrane, 
we  assume  the  fluid  to  consist  of  a  mass,  free  in 
space,  but  subject  to  the  operation  of  the  mutual 
attraction  of  its  particles,  all  these  particles  being 
drawn  thereby  in  the  direction  of  this  common 
center,  then  the  same  result  of  sphericity  will  be 
reached  as  before.  Physicists  will  readily  carry  this 
analysis  a  step  further  and  perceive  that  such 
behavior  of  the  wedges  is  due  ultimately  to  the 
direction  of  the  lines  of  force,  these  lines  being 
directed  always  at  right  angles  to  the  surface  of  the 
inclined  planes  or  wedges  and  cones. 

Furthermore,  it  is  necessary  to  conceive  that 
these  fluid  wedges  do  not  actually  advance  or  recede 
in  mass,  as  solid  wedges  must  do,  but  that  they  do 
so  in  effect  by  a  kind  of  decomposition  and  recom- 
position,  the  molecules  shifting  from  the  acute  and 
more  massive  wedges  and  becoming  part  of  the 
smaller  obtuse  ones  until  all  are  equal  in  length  and 
volume . 


BEARING    OF    THE    PRINCIPLES    ON    THE    FORM    OF 
THE    EARTH. 

Without  resorting  to  the  formal  analysis  of  the 
principles  of  sphere-forming  here  attempted,  it  has 
been  very  generally  realized  that  a  liquid  mass,  left 
free  to  the  mutual  attraction  of  its  own  particles, 


io6  The  Functions  of  the  Fluid  Wedge. 

must  form  a  perfect  sphere.*  In  examining  the 
contour  of  the  earth,  however,  we  find  many  de- 
partures from  this  form,  aside  from  the  shortening  of 
its  axis  due  to  revolution.  The  principal  of  these 
departures  are  the  enormous  mountain  chains  and 
the  abysmal  depths  of  the  sea.  If  the  core  of  the 
earth  now  consists  of  a  plastic  mass,  be  it  as  rigid  as 
a  plastic  mass  can  be,  the  earth  must  be  in  equilib- 
rium, and  a  cone  with  the  top  of  the  highest  moun- 
tain for  its  base  and  its  point  at  the  center  of  the 
earth  must  weigh  as  much  as  another  with  the 
same  diameter  of  base  taken  from  the  bottom  of 
the  deepest  sea.  If  it  be  said  that  the  mountains 
are  supported  arch-like  on  the  crust  of  the  earth,  it 
may  be  answered  that  they  had  no  such  support 
when  they  were  lifted  up.  They  were  plastic  then, 
and  if  out  of  equilibrium  should  have  settled  down 
before  they  cooled  and  had  need  of  the  support  of 
an  arch.  It  seems  almost  certain,  then,  that  the 
specific  gravity  of  the  sea-bottom  crust  is  greater 
than  that  of  the  dry-land  crust. 

THE    BALANCING    OF    FLUID    IN    CONNECTING 
CHAMBERS. 

Many  more  people  have  wondered  than  under- 
stood why  the  water  in  the  spout  stands  on  a  level 
with  that  in  the  body  of  a  teapot.  In  this  principle  of 
the  fluid  wedge  we  have  a  ready  explanation  of  the 

*The  suggestion  is  made  by  Major  Wm.  J.  Davis,  of  Louisville,  that, 
given  an  abundance  of  atmosphere  and  water,  a  rotating  body,  no  matter 
how  rigid  nor  how  irregular  in  shape,  would  eventually  take  a  spheroidal 
form  ;  the  higher  parts  being  worn  away  and  the  lower  ones  raised  by  the 
movement  of  eroded  material. 


The  Fiitictions  of  the  Fluid  Wedg-e.  107 

definite  process  by  which  a  liquid  in  even  the  smallest 
tube  assumes  the  same  level  —  barring  capillarity  — 
as  that  in  a  large  vessel  with  which  it  may  be  con- 
nected. It  affords  also  the  basis  of  a  clear  insight 
into  the  principle  of  the  hydrostatic  press. 


Fig.  3- 

In  the  drawing  (Fig.  3)  let  T  be  a  tank  filled  with 
water  up  to  the  level  L  and  connected  with  a  tubu- 
lar arm  S  in  which  the  water  stands  at  the  height  H. 
Now  let  us  conceive  the  water  in  both  the  tank  T 
and  the  arm  S  to  be  divided  into  wedges  having 
bases  of  equal  area  and  extending  from  the  free 
surfaces  to  the  common  bottom.  Obviously  the 
wedges  into  which  the  water  in  the  arm  is  divided 
will  have  greater  length  and  will  be  more  acute  than 
those  in  the  tank.  It  must  follow,  then,  that  owing 
to  this  greater  acuity  and  greater  angle  of  the  lines 
of  force,  any  given  strength  of  blow  or  given  pres- 


io8  The  Functions  of  the  Fluid  Wedge. 

sure  on  one  of  the  acute  or  long  wedges  in  the  arm 
will  cause  it  to  advance  more  than  one  of  the  obtuse 
wedges  in  the  tank  will  under  an  equal  blow  or 
pressure  ;  that  is,  the  slender  wedge  will  be  more 
easily  driven  than  the  blunt  one.  And,  for  all  prac- 
tical purposes,  blows  are  being  struck  continuously 
or  with  a  rapidity  practically  infinite  upon  the  bases 
of  all  the  wedges. 

Now,  since  in  our  example  the  rapidity  of  the 
blows  or  the  amount  of  pressure  is  the  same  upon 
the  base  of  every  wedge,  it  follows  that  the  acute 
wedges  in  the  arm  will  be  advanced  with  less  resist- 
ance than  the  obtuse  wedges  in  the  tank,  and  the 
obtuse  wedges  will  consequently  be  forced  to  recede 
until  the  liquid  rises  to  the  same  level  in  the  tank 
and  its  arm  —  in  the  teapot  and  its  spout. 

NATURE  OF  LINES  OF  FORCE. 

It  may  not  be  amiss  at  this  point  to  digress  for  a 
moment  and  try  to  make  plainer  to  the  non-scien- 
tific reader  this  matter  of  the  lines  of  force.  We 
have  seen  that  lines  of  force  are  extended  at  right 
angles  to  the  surface  of  an  inclined  plane,  and  there- 
fore at  right  angles  to  the  two  surfaces  of  a  wedge, 
which  is  a  double  inclined  plane. 

An  idea  of  the  action  of  lines  of  force  may  be 
gained  from  the  assumed  construction  of  stools  out  of 
a  number  of  top-shaped  pieces  of  wood  or  wooden 
cones  and  an  appropriate  number  of  legs.  That  is, 
the  legs  must  be  proportionate  in  number  to  the 
taper  of  the  blocks  or  wedges,  so  that  the  greater 
the  slope  the  greater  must  be  the  number  of  legs. 


The  Functions  of  the  Fluid  Wedge. 


109 


Thus  the  stool,  Fig.  4,  would  have  a  great  num- 
ber of  legs,  and  it  would  offer  great  resistance ; 
that  is,  it  would  support  great  weight.  The  stool, 
Fig.  5,  on  the  other  hand,  would  have  few  legs  and 


Fig-  4. 


they  would  spread  out  widely.  The  resistance  offered 
by  these  legs  to  a  downward  pushing  force  would  not 
be  great,  the  stool  would  not  be  strong,  and  it  would 
not  therefore  sustain  a  heavy  weight.      If  the  body 


Fig.  5- 

of  the  stool  had  almost  no  taper,  it  would  have  almost 
no  legs,  and  what  it  might  have  would  point  almost 
directly  outward  instead  of  downward  ;  and  every 
one's  experience  tells  him  how  easily  such  a  stool 
could  be  crushed. 


I  lO  The  Functions  of  the  Fluid  Wedge. 

Now,  let  us  conceive  the  force  opposing  the 
advance  of  a  wedge  into  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  or  even 
a  mass  of  water,  to  be  divided  into  units,  each  one 
of  which  points,  as  did  the  legs  of  our  stools,  accord- 
ing to  the  taper  of  the  wedge.  It  is  clear  that  the 
wedges  having  much  taper  and  having  the  lines  of 
force  most  nearly  parallel  to  their  axes  will  meet  with 
more  resistance  than  those  having  fewer  units  of 
force,  with  the  lines  of  force  pointing  at  a  larger  angle 
to  the  wedge  axes. 


Fig.  6. 

And  now,  instead  of  a  stool,  let  us  take  a  blunt 
wedge,  and,  instead  of  the  legs,  let  us  conceive  the 
resisting  force  divided  into  units  or  rays  ;  and  let  us 
also  conceive  this  wedge  to  be  split  successively  into 
smaller  wedges,  as  in  the  drawing  (Fig.  6). 

It  is  clear  that  our  rays  of  force  for  each  wedge 
so  formed  decrease  in  exact  proportion  to  the 
increased  slenderness  of  the  wedges.  If  these 
more  slender  wedges  have  only  a  millionth  part  of 
the  slope  of  the  obtuse  one  from  which  they  were 
formed,  each  one  will  have  only  a  millionth  part  of 
the  rays  of  force  resisting  its  advance  by  bracing  it 


The  Functions  of  the  Fluid  Wedge.  ill 

at  right  angles  to  the  iiicHne  of  its  planes,  which  in 
this  case  will  be  nearly  at  right  angles  to  the  axis  of 
the  wedge. 

This  process  may  continue  until  each  wedge 
becomes  infinitely  acute,  when  it  will  have  resisting 
its  advance  only  an  infinitely  small  part  of  the  force 
resisting  the  advance  of  the  original  wedge. 

If  the  wedge  has  its  planes  nearly  parallel  and  is 
almost  without  slope,  it  will  enter  between  and  sepa- 
rate two  bodies  with  little  resistance  other  than  that 
offered  by  friction.  A  cone  or  wedge  of  the  width 
of  base  of  half  a  mile  would,  under  equal  pressure 
of  equal  area,  exert  no  stronger  lateral  pressure 
than  one  of  the  thickness  of  a  needle,  both  being  of 
equal  length  ;  for  each  would  return  to  the  rest  of 
the  mass  of  water  just  as  much  as  it  received  from 
it.  The  total  lateral  resistance  of  all  fluid  or 
liquid  wedges,  therefore,  is  the  same,  whatever 
may  be  the  diameter  of  their  bases  or  whatever 
the  incline  of  their  surfaces,  provided  they  are  of 
equal  height. 

This  brings  us,  then,  to  an  explanation  of  how  a 
column  of  water  in  a  tube  no  larger  than  a  straw 
can  raise  the  body  of  the  ocean  — could  raise  a  mass 
of  water  almost  of  infinite  proportions.  We  first 
conceive  the  ocean  to  be  divided  perpendicularl}' 
into  wedges,  one  half  of  them  with  their  bases 
upward  and  the  other  half  with  their  bases  down- 
ward. These  wedges,  though  half  a  dozen  miles  in 
length,  might  have  their  bases  and  apexes  to  cor- 
respond in  thickness  to  the  two  extremities  of  a 
cambric  needle. 


1 1 2  The  Fitnctions  of  the  Fltdd  Wedge. 

Furthermore,  the  most  slender  column  or  wedge 
conceivable  extending  from  the  free  surface  to  the 
bottom  of  a  body  of  water  will  exert  as  much  lat- 
eral force  from  the  position  it  occupies  as  all  the 
rest  of  the  body,  even  if  it  be  the  ocean,  can  exert 
on  it.  For  to  each  and  every  other  wedge  or  col- 
umn it  returns  as  much  as  it  receives.  Here, 
again,  the  principle  is  the  same  as  with  solids.  If  a 
tree  were  split  through  its  whole  length  into  fibers, 
these  would  scarcely  more  stand  upright  unsup- 
ported than  would  like  slender  columns  of  water. 
In  this,  as  in  other  respects,  liquids  are  but  other 
forms  of  solids,  as  solids  are  but  other  forms  of 
liquids. 

The  lines  of  force  with  wedges  of  incline  so  small 
as  those  described  would  be  directed  practically  at 
right  angles  to  the  axis,  and  therefore  practically  no 
resistance  would  be  offered  to  their  direct  advance. 
When,  then,  any  such  wedge  should  be  found  of 
greater  length  than  the  others,  having  from  this 
cause  greater  weight  with  no  more  resistance  to  its 
advance  than  the  others,  it  must  continue  to  advance 
or  sink  down  by  the  process  of  decomposition  and 
recomposition  until  it  should  become  of  the  same 
length. 

While  a  wedge  of  water  is  thus  settling  down 
into  the  sea,  the  water  of  the  sea  may  be  assumed 
to  be  divided  into  horizontal  wedges  of  indefinite 
length,  and  these  would  be  pushed  apart  to  raise  the 
level  of  the  rest  of  the  ocean. 


The  Functions  of  the  Fluid  Wedge.  1 1 


NO    HYDROSTATIC    PARADOX. 

In  the  action  of  the  fluid  wedge  we  may  also  find 
an  explanation  of  the  so-called  hydrostatic  paradox, 
or  the  law,  as  commonly  stated,  that  water  presses 
equally  in  all  directions,  and  that  a  quantity  of  water, 
\however  small,  may  be  made  to  counterbalance  any 
weight,  however  great. 

Let  us  suppose  that  a  small  tube  with  its  con- 
tained water  divided  into  wedges  rises  above  and 
is  connected  with  a  closed  cask  of  water.  Now,  it 
will  make  no  difference  in  the  application  of  the 
principle  whether  we  conceive  the  water  in  the  tube 
to  form  wedges  extending  down  to  the  bottom  of  the 
cask,  thus  forcing  the  horizontal  wedges  into  which 
the  water  in  the  cask  is  resolved  laterally  upon  each 
other,  or  whether  we  regard  them  as  bending  with 
thin  extremities  on  entering  the  cask  and  extending 
out  under  its  head.  In  any  event,  all  the  wedges  at 
the  same  level  will  be  equally  affected  by  pressure, 
and  the  driving  out  of  these  horizontal  wedges  lifts 
the  head  of  the  cask,  even  it  may  be  to  bursting  it 
off.  The  fluid  wedges  in  this  upward  pipe  have  done 
no  more,  have  exerted  no  more  power  than  solid 
wedges  would  have  exerted  in  a  cask  of  other  solid 
wedges  could  they  all  move  upon  each  other  without 
friction.  There  is  then  no  hydrostatic  paradox  — 
the  paradox  disappears. 

DISPLACEMENT    OF    FLUIDS. 

The  explanation  of  the  reactions  involved  in  the 
displacement  of  fluids  would  seem  to  be  easier  on 


114  ^^^  Functions  of  the  Fluid  Wedge. 

this    principle    than    by    the    method    usually    em- 
ployed. 

Thus,  if  a  cylinder  C  of  cork  or  any  light  sub- 
stance one  third  of  the  diameter  of  the  vessel  V, 
partly  filled  with  water,  be  let  down  into  it  by  the 
cord  R,  it  will  force  down  the  wedge  A,  which  will 
slide  upon  B  and  lengthen  the  wedges  i,  2,  3,  and 
4  on  either  side  of  it.  Now,  the  farther  down  into 
fluid  the  cylinder  C  is  forced,  the  more  obtuse  will 


Fig.  7- 

the  wedges  A  and  B  become,  the  more  resistance 
will  be  offered  to  their  further  shortening,  and  con- 
sequently the  greater  will  be  the  reaction  by  which 
they  resist  or  force  upward  the  cylinder.  This,  of 
course,  will  be  due  to  the  increasing  preponderance 
of  the  wedges  i,  2,  3,  and  4  over  A  and  B  by  reason 
of  their  increasing  relative  acuity. 

If  instead  of  the  cylinder  C  a  mass  of  material 
such  as  may  be  submerged  in  the  vessel  and  yet 


The  Functions  of  the  Fluid  Wedge.  1 1 5 

lighter  than  water  be  employed,  the  resistance  to 
its  deeper  immersion  will  not  increase  after  it  passes 
beneath  the  surface,  for  the  water  moving  in  above 
it  will  equal  in  weight  that  displaced. 


HYDROSTATIC    PRESS. 

In  the  hydrostatic  press  identically  the  same 
principle  is  involved  as  in  the  balancing  of  the 
liquids  in  connecting  chambers  already  described. 
The  water  in  the  tube  extending  from  the  plunger 
is  supposed  to  be  divided  into  wedges  of  the  same 
length  as  those  in  the  tube.     A  single  wedge,  how- 


1 1 6  The  Functions  of  the  Fluid  Wedge. 

ever,  the  diameter  of  whose  base  would  equal  that 
of  the  bottom  of  the  plunger  or  piston,  would  con- 
duct all  the  force,  and  would  be  the  unit  of  meas- 
urement. When  the  press  is  in  operation  every 
potential  or  hypothetical  wedge  in  the  piston  cham- 
ber will  have  a  force  exerted  on  it  equal  to  that 
exerted  by  the  plunger  in  addition  to  its  own  weight, 
and  all  of  them  will  have  a  total  force  exerted  on 
them  equal  to  the  force  exerted  on  the  wedge  in 
the  tube  of  the  plunger,  multiplied  by  the  number 
of  the  wedges  of  equal  area  of  base  contained  in 
the  piston  cylinder. 

The  water  in  the  piston  chamber  and  tube  has 
been  so  far  treated  of  as  if  divided  into  wedges  of 
the  whole  length  of  the  space  intervening  between 
the  piston  and  the  base  of  the  press.  Practically, 
however,  this  is  not  the  real  condition ;  otherwise 
the  tubes  might  be  extended  indefinitely  with  the 
wedges  of  corresponding  length,  and  thus  an  incal- 
culable force  be  exercised. 

Under  ultimate  analysis  the  wedges  are  the 
smallest  that  could  be  imagined  to  be  constructed 
out  of  the  molecules  of  water,  and  are  in  fact 
ultramicroscopic. 

The  only  length  required  would  therefore  be 
such  as  to  admit  of  the  formation  and  action  of 
these  diminutive  wedges.  All  additional  length  of 
the  tube,  even  if  it  were  perpendicular,  could  be  of 
advantage  only  by  the  additional  weight  of  water  it 
would  supply  ;  while  if  horizontal,  it  would  serve 
only  to  increase  friction  and  impair  the  power  of 
the  machine. 


The  Functions  of  the  Fluid  Wedge.  1 17 


THE  BOURDON  STEAM  GAUGE. 

This  instrument  consists  of  a  bent  tube  or  hollow 
metal  receiver  which  straightens  when  steam  is 
admitted  to  it  under  pressure,  and  which  has  an 
apparatus  attached  to  it  for  registering  the  degree  of 
straightening.  The  explanation  of  this  straightening 
usually  given  in  the  text-books  is,  that  it  is  due  to 
the  pushing  apart  of  the  walls  of  the  tube,  which  is 
curved  on  the  flat.  This  is  clearly  an  insufficient 
explanation,  since  it  is  not  at   all   necessary  for  a 


A  C  Fig.  g. 

curved  tube  to  be  flattened  in  order  to  have  it 
straightened  under  the  pressure  of  contained  fluid. 
Professor  Peddie  in  his  text-book  on  physics  makes 
the  generalized  mathematical  statement  that  the 
straightening  is  due  to  the  fact  that  the  sum  of  the 
moments  of  force  between  C  and  D  is  greater  than 
between  A  and  B  ;  but  this,  while  mathematically 
true,  gives  no  definite  analysis  of  the  physical  prin- 
ciples the  case  involves.  The  principle  of  the  fluid 
or  liquid  wedge  will  apply  here  also,  for  it  applies  as 
well  to  gases  as  to  liquids. 


1 1 8  TJie  Functions  of  the  Fluid  Wedge. 

If  we  conceive  the  steam  in  the  receiver  of  a 
Bourdon  gauge,  or  the  fluid  or  liquid  in  any  other 
tube,  to  be  laid  off  in  transverse  sections  of  equal 
length,  we  will  find  that  in  order  to  keep  pace  with 
the  curve  several  wedge-shaped  sections  must  be 
provided  for,  these  wedges  all  having  their  bases  on 
the  convex  or  long  side  of  the  tube,  and  the  apex 
on  the  concave  or  the  short  side.  Now,  since  the 
lines  of  force  act  at  right  angles  to  the  inclined 
planes  forming  the  wedges,  it  will  result  that  the 


Fig.  10. 

rays  exert  themselves  most  on  the  inner  or  shorter 
wall,  and  cause  it  to  stretch  more  than  the  outer 
wall,  thus  straightening  the  receiver. 

The  interaction  of  these  lines  of  force  may  be 
very  complex  as  between  the  surfaces  of  the  wedges 
and  the  walls  of  the  receiver,  but  the  total  result 
will  be  the  same  as  when  the  total  resistance  of  all 
the  wedge  surfaces  is  divided  between  the  two  walls 
of  the  receiver  in  such  a  way  as  to  give  the  inner 
wall  the  first  half,  then  the  outer  wall  half  of  the 
remainder,  and  so  on  through  an  infinite  series. 


The  Functions  of  the  Fluid  Wedge.  1 19 

Thus,  suppose  the  wedge  W  (Fig.  10),  with  its 
base  resting  on  the  outer  wall  of  the  curved  tube,  to 
be  filled  with  fluid,  and  its  point  extending  to  the 
inner  wall  to  be  driven  forward  by  the  pressure  of  the 
steam  forced  into  the  tube.  The  lines  of  force  will 
impinge  first  on  the  inner  wall.  According  to  the 
law  of  the  deflection  of  force,  one  half  of  it  will  be 
exerted  on  the  inner  wall  and  the  other  half  will  be 
deflected  to  the  outer  wall.  Reaching  the  outer  wall, 
one  half  of  this  half,  or  one  fourth  of  the  total,  will 
be  exerted  on  it  and  the  other  fourth  will  be  deflected 
to  the  inner  wall,  where  one  half  of  it,  or  one  eighth 
of  the  total,  will  be  exerted,  and  so  on  until  all 
has  been  exhausted.  Thus,  the  inner  wall  having 
received  first  one  half  and  then  one  eighth  of 
the  total,  has  already  had  exerted  upon  it  the 
greater  part  of  the  moment  of  force  proceeding 
from  the  wedge. 

Distributing  the  force  exerted  by  the  rule  applic- 
able to  an  infinite  series,  we  have  a  total  of  two 
thirds  for  the  inner  wall  and  one  third  for  the  outer 
wall.  It  is  obvious  in  this  case,  as  in  others,  that 
these  injected  wedges  in  the  tube  will  act  on  the 
whole  exactly  as  if  they  were  solid,  for  whatever 
support  they  receive  from  the  rest  of  the  contents 
of  the  tube  and  the  tube  wall  they  return  to  them. 

Innumerable  phenomena  involving  the  displace- 
ment of  fluids  may  have  light  shed  on  them  by 
viewing  them  in  connection  with  this  wedge  action 
of  fluids  and  gases.  The  principle  has  an  important 
bearing  on  the  movement  of  ships,  and  it  is  quite 
extensively    involved    in    the    movement    of    fishes 


1  20  TJic  Functions  of  tlic  I'luid  Wedge. 

beneath  the  water.  Thus,  a  whale  swimming  deep 
in  the  sea  might,  at  first  blush,  be  supposed  to  be 
overcoming  an  enormous  resistance.  But  if  we  may 
assume  that  all  the  water  in  contact  with  the  body 
composes  the  bases  of  wedges,  extending  with  their 
points  so  far  out  into  the  sea  that  there  is  compara- 
tively little  resistance  to  their  advance,  and  that  the 
wedges  it  drives  before  it  are  very  nearly  counter- 
balanced by  the  reaction  on  those  behind  it,  the 
difficulty  of  the  task  largely  disappears. 

DISSIPATION    AT    THE    MOUTHS    OF    RIVERS. 

At  a  hasty  glance  the  conclusion  would  be  a 
natural  one  that  rivers  should  empty  into  the  sea 
by  an  abrupt  front  or  a  kind  of  waterfall.  How 
can  the  outflowing  river  push  away  from  its  mouth 
the  immense  mass  of  sea  water  and  keep  on  its 
fixed  march  with  the  ocean  column  without  heaping 
up  or  without  a  single  ripple  at  their  place  of  meet- 
ing .''  It  must  be  that  by  wedge  action  the  water  of 
the  ocean  is  lifted  far  out  from  the  shore,  and  that 
by  its  means  masses  of  water,  great  as  even  the 
Amazon  delivers,  are  in  effect  stored  almost  instan- 
taneously in  far-off  ocean  depths.  It  is  most  likely, 
too,  indeed  it  is  almost  impossible  for  it  to  be  other- 
wise, that  the  surface  of  the  sea  slopes  up  to  the 
mouth  of  every  river  in  order  to  give  the  potential 
incline  necessary  to  enable  the  river  to  wedge  off 
its  waters  into  the  ocean. 

REFLUX    OF    TIDE    MASSES. 

It  matters  not  what  theory  of  tides  may  be 
adopted,  one  conclusion  in  which  all  agree  is  that 


The  Functions  of  tJic  Fluid  Wedge.  1 2 1 

the  elevated  masses  of  water  do  not  follow  in  iden- 
tical form  the  movements  of  the  bodies  raising  them. 
Their  constituent  parts  change  from  moment  to 
moment.  The  tide  mass  of  this  hour  sinks  in  the 
next  into  the  ocean,  and  another  is  raised,  made  up 
of  water  largely  different  and  distinct.  Yet,  how  do 
these  masses  disappear,  except  by  far-reaching 
wedges  lifting  other  parts  of  the  sea,  and  even, 
speaking  in  a  potential  sense,  carrying  the  water 
back  beneath  the  moon  and  beyond  it,  which  the 
moon  had  raised  up  just  the  hour  before } 

If  the  earth  were  a  mass  of  water,  a  wave  or 
tide  elevation  would  sink  down  into  it  simply  as  a 
wedge,  and  would  not  travel  over  its  surface.  As 
the  case  with  the  ocean  actually  is,  however,  the 
water  that  is  drawn  up  or  thrown  up  into  tidal  ele- 
vation must  be  dissipated  by  wedge  action,  inter- 
fered with  by  friction  at  the  sea  bottom  ;  and  it 
would  seem,  also,  that  the  larger  the  area  of  the  mass 
elevated,  the  height  being  the  same,  the  more  rapid 
would  be  the  movement  of  dissipation.  It  would 
simply  sink  down  into  the  sea,  and  the  water  beneath 
it  would  be  thrust  out  in  every  direction  by  the 
wedge  action  in  a  wholly  different  way  from  that  in 
which  a  wave  is  propagated.  This,  however,  re- 
mains to  be  confirmed. 

If  an  enormous  mass  of  water  were  let  sink  into 
an  ocean,  say  thirteen  miles  deep,  would  its  dissipa- 
tion await  a  wave  movement  of  one  thousand  miles 
an  hour,  or  would  it  be  effected  by  wedge  action  far 
in  advance  of  any  possible  wave } 

It  is  a  fact,  however,  that  tide  masses  do  undergo 
dissipation    under   conditions    that    necessitate    the 


122  The  Functions  of  the  Fhiid  Wedge. 

movement  of  the  water  at  the  rate  of  one  thousand 
miles  an  hour,  a  rate  at  which  it  is  impossible  for 
waves  to  travel  with  the  present  depth  of  the  ocean. 
Therefore,  if  this  be  not  accounted  for  by  the  action 
of  double  inclined  planes  or  wedges,  it  is  a  problem 
that  yet  remains  to  be  solved. 


THE  BIRTH  OF  A  PLANET 


A  CRITICISM   OF  THE  NEBULAR 
HYPOTHESIS 


INTRODUCTORY. 

Even  though  the  principle  advocated  in  this  essay 
should  be  shown  to  be  quite  inapplicable  to  the  case 
under  consideration,  it  is  nevertheless  not  without 
use  in  the  interpretation  of  other  phenomena.  Its 
utility  is  especially  exemplified  in  searching  for  the 
immediate  source  of  tornadoes,  which  it  proves  to 
be  an  offshoot  of  the  cyclone  and  a  part  of  the 
cyclone  mass  that  has  been  thrown  of^  at  a  tangent. 
If  this  were  not  the  case,  tornadoes  would  neces- 
sarily rotate  in  a  direction  opposite  that  of  the 
cyclones  from  which  they  spring,  instead  of  the 
same  direction,  as  they  actually  do. 

There  is  little  pleasure,  it  must  be  confessed,  and 
less  of  profit  in  disturbing  conclusions  that  have 
come  to  be  regarded  as  settled  canons  of  science, 
unless  one  is  able  to  offer  for  the  rejected  principles 
something  that  is  at  least  as  satisfactory. 

The  nebular  hypothesis  has  been  so  long  regarded 
as  meeting  the  conditions  of  planetary  evolution, 
and  is  withal  so  beautiful  and  ingenious,  that  the 
writer  can  not  avoid  feeling  that  he  inflicts  loss 
upon  himself  as  well  as  others  in  so  far  as  he  ma}' 
happen  to  succeed  in  weakening  it.  He  is  therefore 
quite  willing  to  be  proven  to  be  in  error  in  enter- 
taining an  adverse  opinion. 


125 


THE   BIRTH   OF  A  PLANET. 
A  Criticism  of  the  Nebular  Hypothesis. 

THE  nebular  hypothesis  suggested  by  Sweden- 
borg,  developed  by  Kant,  and  supported  by  La 
Place,  proposing  to  account  for  the  origin  of  the  vari- 
ous heavenly  bodies,  assumes  that  in  the  beginning 
the  atoms  of  which  worlds  now  consist  were  dissemi- 
nated through  space  as  a  nebulous  vapor.  For  such 
a  system  as  our  sun,  it  was  supposed  that  this  vapor 
began  gathering  into  a  central  mass,  and,  in  doing  so, 
inaugurated  a  revolving  motion  around  a  central 
axis.  In  the  course  of  time  this  mass  shaped  itself 
into  a  revolving  sphere,  or  disc  rather,  with  an  enor- 
mous equatorial  diameter  and  a  relatively  small  axial 
or  polar  diameter. 

As  the  mass  cooled  off,  the  central  parts  con- 
tracted and  gradually  withdrew  from  the  outer  part 
or  rim,  which  remained  as  a  ring  surrounding  it, 
kept  from  approaching  nearer  the  center  by  cen- 
trifugal force  due  to  the  revolution  of  the  whole 
mass  of  vapor. 

This  ring  from  some  cause  moved  more  slowly 
in  some  places  than  in  others,  until  finally  its  par- 
ticles all  got  together  in  one  mass,  forming  a 
planet.  In  this  way  one  planet  after  another  was 
formed,  until  at  last  the  sun  reached  its  present 
dimensions. 


128  The  Birth  of  a  Planet. 

On  the  same  hypothesis  it  is  assumed  that  when 
these  planetary  masses  got  to  revolving  on  their  axes, 
nebular  rings  were  in  like  manner  left  surrounding 
them,  and  these  in  time  became  satellites  or  moons. 

FACTS    IN    ITS    FAVOR. 

The  facts  in  favor  of  this  hypothesis  are  both 
numerous  and  significant.  In  the  first  place,  from 
two  hundred  to  three  hundred  planetary  bodies  are 
known,  all  rotating  in  the  same  plane  and  in  the 
same  direction,  with  the  exception  of  the  satellites 
of  Uranus,  which  by  some  means  have  been  caused 
to  rotate  at  a  very  considerable  angle  to  the  com- 
mon plane  of  the  solar  system. 

Between  Mars  and  Jupiter  are  a  large  number  of 
satellites  revolving  around  the  sun,  and  supposed  to 
be  the  remnants  of  a  nebulous  ring  which  failed  to 
become  a  planet  and  broke  up  into  these  smaller 
bodies. 

The  probability  that  such  an  arrangement  as  that 
just  described  and  observed  to  exist  among  the 
planets  and  satellites  of  the  solar  system  could  have 
been  brought  about  by  a  fortuitous  aggregation  of 
nebulous  vapor,  when  tested  by  the  doctrine  of 
chances,  is  almost  infinitely  small. 

Again,  it  has  been  ascertained  that  the  sun  is  now 
diminishing  in  diameter  by  about  four  miles  in  every 
century.  If  this  has  been  steady  and  continuous  in 
the  past,  forty-seven  million  years  ago  the  sun  must 
have  occupied  the  space  the  earth  does  now,  and  some 
time  in  the  past  must  have  extended  beyond  the 
orbit  of  Neptune. 


The  Birth  of  a  Planet.  129 

Observations  by  means  of  the  telescope  have  also 
lent  additional  probability  to  the  theory.  Astron- 
omers have  discovered  nebulae  in  various  stages  of 
progress  toward  the  formation  of  suns.  Some  have 
been  seen  without  nucleus,  others  have  presented  a 
nucleus  more  or  less  translucent,  while  still  others 
have  revealed  extensive  nucleus  formation  opaque 
to  the  light  of  other  luminous  bodies. 

Another  feature  that  favors  the  theory  is  the 
central  heat  of  planets.  It  is  entirely  consistent 
with  the  hypothesis  that  planets  should  begin  cool- 
ing off  at  the  surface,  as  is  evidently  the  case  with 
Jupiter,  the  earth,  and  the  moon,  while  the  interior 
mass  remains  incandescent,  as  is  the  case  with  at 
least  the  earth  and  Jupiter. 

DIFFICULTIES    OF    THE    HYPOTHESIS. 

Not  to  mention  the  irregular  orbits  of  the  satel- 
lites of  Uranus,  which  may  well  have  had  an  acci- 
dental cause,  there  are  still  some  other  difficulties  in 
the  way  of  the  acceptance  of  this  theory ;  but  there 
is  so  much  in  favor  of  the  hypothesis,  and  mankind 
has  been  so  completely  baffled  in  devising  any  other 
mode  of  origin  for  planetary  systems  except  that  of 
direct  creation,  that  the  world  generally  has  accepted 
it  on  authority. 

Yet  there  is  one  objection  that  has  not  heretofore 
been  offered,  or  rather  it  might  be  said  there  is  one 
fact  that  has  been  offered  in  behalf  of  the  hypothe- 
sis that  presents  so  great  an  obstacle  that  it  appears 
to  require  a  material  modification  in  its  statement. 
This  objection,  or  at  least  difficulty,  lies  in  the  fact 


1 30  The  Birth  of  a  Planet. 

that  the  planets  and  satellites  rotate  on  their  own 
axes  in  the  same  direction  as  what  is  supposed 
to  be  the  parent  body — the  very  fact  that  probably 
has  been  relied  on  most  of  all  to  prove  the  theory. 

MUST    BE    THROWN    FROM    PARENT    BODY. 

This  rotation  about  their  axes  on  the  part  of 
planets  and  satellites  could  be  brought  about  only 
by  their  being  thrown  off  to  some  distance  from 
their  position  as  a  part  of  the  parent  body,  and  not 
by  the  withdrawal  of  the  parent  body  from  them, 
as  assumed  in  the  hypothesis.  The  earth,  for  in- 
stance, could  revolve  on  its  own  separate  axis  as 
distinct  from  that  of  the  sun,  and  in  the  same  direc- 
tion as  the  sun,  only  by  being  caused  to  move  in  a 
larger  orbit  than  that  described  by  it  while  it  was 
still  a  part  of  the  sun's  mass  ;  but  it  could  not  do  so 
while  retaining  the  same  orbit  or  moving  in  one  of 
smaller  diameter. 

If  a  cane  be  held  in  the  hand  by  one  end,  and 
then  let  go  in  a  straight  direction  after  being  swung 
rapidly  around  from  behind  forward,  it  will  begin  to 
rotate  as  soon  as  it  leaves  the  hand. 

The  reason  is  that  when  let  fly  the  distant  end 
Avas  moving  more  rapidly  than  the  near  end,  and  so, 
trying  to  outtravel  it,  had  to  pass  around  it  and  thus 
inaugurate  rotation  about  the  axis.  Again,  when  a 
wheel  or  disc  is  revolving,  the  outer  parts  are  mov- 
ing faster  than  the  inner  parts ;  and  this  is  true  of 
every  two  particles  in  the  disc,  where  one  of  them  is 
nearer  to  the  center  than  the  other. 


The  Birth  of  a  Planet.  1 3 1 

This  character  of  motion  is  called  linear  motion, 
and  the  linear  motion  of  every  particle  is  greater 
than  that  of  any  other  particle  nearer  the  axis  of 
rotation.  But  every  particle  of  the  disc  has  also 
another  motion  known  as  the  angular  motion,  and 
this  is  the  same  for  every  particle  in  the  disc  or 
wheel,  no  matter  where  situated. 

Thus  a  particle  near  the  axis  may  move  but  one 
foot  a  minute,  while  another  at  the  circumference 
may  move  a  hundred  feet  in  the  same  time,  but  they 
both  pass  through  the  same  number  of  degrees,  or 
the  same  angle.  It  is  obvious  that  every  point  in 
the  wheel  must  have  a  fixed  ratio  of  angular  to 
linear  motion  ;  the  farther  from  the  axis  the  greater 
the  linear  motion  must  be  for  each  degree  of  angu- 
lar motion. 

Now,  if  a  part  of  the  disc  at  any  point  should  be 
freed  from  the  mass  to  which  it  belongs,  and  all  its 
particles  should  preserve  the  same  linear  and  the 
same  angular  motion  that  they  had  before  separa- 
tion, it  would  simply  continue  to  go  around  in  its 
path,  without  rotating  on  its  axis  in  either  the  one 
or  the  other  direction.  But  if  it  should  be  drawn 
closer  than  before  to  the  axis  of  the  body  from 
which  it  had  separated,  it  would  revolve  in  a  direc- 
tion opposite  to  that  of  the  original  disc  ;  while  on 
the  other  hand,  if  it  should  be  thrown  farther  from 
the  center,  it  would  rotate  forward  in  the  same 
direction  as  the  original  disc. 

Now,  let  us  suppose  that  a  block  or  fragment 
from  this  disc  flies  off  at  a  tangent  while  it  is  revolv- 
ing.     Clearly,  since  the  outside  of  the  disc  is  moving 


1 32  The  Rirth  of  a  Planet. 

faster  than  the  inside,  the  outside  of  the  fragment 
will  be  moving  faster  than  the  inside,  and  will  of 
necessity  move  around  the  inside  and  cause  rotation 
in  the  same  direction  as  the  disc  from  which  it  was 
broken.  This  could,  of  course,  occur  only  when 
the  fragment  should  fly  off  in  a  straight  line,  and  the 
equilibrium  between  the  linear  and  angular  motions 
be  disturbed. 

Or  let  us  give  one  more  and  a  homely  illustra- 
tion : 

If  two  horses  are  running  on  a  circular  race- 
track, the  one  on  the  outside  must  run  a  little  faster 
than  the  one  on  the  inside  in  order  to  keep  abreast 
of  it.  The  outside  one  can  run  a  little  faster  than 
the  inner  one  without  ever  running  around  it.  But 
let  them  now  fly  the  track  at  a  tangent,  running  side 
by  side  in  a  straight  line,  each  keeping  up  the  same 
speed  as  before.  They  will  thereupon  be  seen  to 
revolve  around  each  other,  the  outer  running  around 
the  inner  one  in  the  same  direction  they  maintained 
while  on  the  track. 

Let  us  now  carry  out  the  parallel  and  learn  what 
must  occur  with  a  nebulous  ring  left  in  space  by  the 
contraction  of  a  central  mass.  In  the  first  place,  it 
is  exceedingly  difficult  to  conceive  how  all  the  parti- 
cles of  such  a  mass  could  get  together. 

The  orbit  of  Neptune,  for  instance,  is  nearly 
eighteen  billion  miles  in  circumference,  and  the  par- 
ticles of  matter  gathering  from  the  nebulous  ring  to 
form  the  planet  must,  before  this  task  could  be 
accomplished,  have  traveled  exactly  in  the  same 
orbit,  with  a  uniform,  continuous,  and  independent 


TIic  Birth  of  a  Planet.  133 

slowing  for  all  the  particles  in  one  direction  from  a 
given  point,  and  a  like  acceleration  for  all  the  par- 
ticles in  the  other  direction. 

It  would  not  suffice  to  assume  that  any  incon- 
siderable part  of  the  ring  became  accelerated  and 
hastened  around,  driving  the  remainder  before  it  to 
be  massed  into  the  new  planet,  for  the  shock  of 
the  concussion  of  the  fast-moving  with  the  slower- 
moving  parts  would  soon  arrest  the  excessive 
motion. 

While,  on  the  other  hand,  if  one  part  should 
become  retarded  or  arrested  in  its  motion,  unless 
such  part  should  constitute  a  very  large  proportion 
of  the  total  mass,  it  would  soon  again  be  set  into 
rapid  motion,  as  it  would  be  overtaken  by  the  after- 
coming  mass  of  particles.  If  this  view,  then,  is  to 
be  accepted  at  all,  it  would  be  more  reasonably 
assumed  that  each  particle  experienced  its  due  pro- 
portion of  retardation  or  acceleration.  This  of  itself 
is  hard  to  conceive  and  harder  still  to  credit. 

It  takes  Neptune  one  hundred  and  sixty-four 
of  our  years  to  revolve  once  around  the  sun.  Light 
itself  would  require  more  than  three  years'  time  to 
make  the  journey. 

How  long  a  period,  then,  would  be  required  for 
one  part  of  a  nebulous  ring  to  leave  the  part  next 
behind  it,  to  move  around  in  the  orbit,  bring  up  the 
rest,  and  overtake  that  part  again .?  Furthermore, 
it  is  to  be  considered  that  this  is  to  be  accomplished 
in  the  absence  of  any  known  or  suspected  cause  of 
acceleration  for  the  one  part  or  retardation  for  the 
other. 


1 34  Tlic  Birth  of  a  Planet. 

But  it  is  nowhere  suggested  in  the  nebular  hypoth- 
esis that  the  rings  fly  off  at  a  tangent,  or  that  they 
in  any  way  recede  from  the  parent  bodies ;  and  if 
they  do  not,  we  have  seen  that  it  is  not  possible  for 
them,  even  should  they  get  together  in  planet  forms, 
to  take  on  rotation  about  their  own  axes.  Yet  this 
must  have  happened  in  the  case  of  all  of  the  nearly 
three  hundred  globes  constituting  our  planetary  sys- 
tem if  we  are  to  accept  the  current  statement  of  the 
nebular  hypothesis. 

GEORGE  H.  Darwin's  modification. 

Professor  George  H.  Darwin,  son  of  Charles  Dar- 
win, and  famed  as  an  eminent  mathematician,  has 
made  the  startling  suggestion  that  the  moon,  at  least, 
was  lifted  up  on  the  earth  as  a  tidal  elevation,  and 
then  thrown  off  into  space.  Now,  this  would  meet 
the  rotational  difficulty  as  far  as  the  satellites  or 
the  planets  near  the  sun  are  concerned,  but  what 
tidal  elevations  could  be  produced  on  such  distant 
planets  as  Neptune  or  Uranus,  or  even  Saturn  or 
Jupiter .'' 

Even  by  the  time  the  lines  of  the  sun's  attraction 
reach  the  earth  they  have  become  so  nearly  parallel 
that  the  sun  can  raise  only  two  fifths  as  much  tide 
as  the  moon,  although  twenty-five  and  a  half  million 
times  heavier.  But  before  they  could  reach  Uranus, 
which  is  more  than  thirty  times  as  far  away  as  the 
earth,  the  lines  of  the  sun's  attraction  must  be  so 
nearly  parallel  that  tide  generating  force  would  be 
practically  obliterated,  and  the  tides  would  become 
a  vanishing  quantity.      Now  it   can  hardly  be    the 


The  Birth  of  a  Planet.  135 

case  that  there  are  two  causes  operating  in  the  uni- 
verse at  the  same  time,  both  capable  of  forming 
nebulous  masses  into  revolving  satellites  and  larger 
planetary  bodies. 

But  Professor  Darwin  does  not  assert  a  tidal 
origin  for  the  primary  planets.  On  the  contrary,  he 
distinctly  declares  his  belief  that  the  planets  have, 
from  the  beginning,  revolved  in  substantially  the 
same  orbits  as  at  present. 

SUGGESTION    OF    COMETS. 

Would  it,  then,  be  too  wild  a  dream  to  imagine 
the  universe  peopled  with  cometary  bodies  during 
the  first  ages,  and  to  suppose  that  they  possibly 
passed  close  enough  to  the  shrinking  suns  to  gather 
up  a  portion  of  their  mass,  and  that  then,  carrying 
it  some  distance  away,  they  joined  it  in  revolving 
around  the  parent  body }  A  comet  striking  the 
nebulous  border  of  a  sun  in  a  direction  opposite 
to  that  of  its  motion  would  be  checked  by  its 
momentum,  and  might  fail  to  carry  away  any  part 
of  it,  but  on  the  contrary  would  itself  be  lost  in 
the  mass.  So  if  it  should  strike  across  the  direction 
of  motion,  it  might  fail,  boring  through  and  carry- 
ing away  only  a  small  portion  of  its  mass.  But  if 
it  should  pass  through  a  nebulous  border  in  the 
direction  of  its  motion  at  a  time  when  that  border 
was  barely  restrained  from  flying  off  by  reason  of 
the  fact  that  the  centripetal  and  centrifugal  forces 
were  nearly  balanced,  it  could  possibly  carry  it  far 
enough  away  to  set  up  a  movement  of  rotation  and 
then  revolve  with  it  as  a  planet  around  the  parent 
body. 


1 36  The  BirtJi  of  a  Planet. 

After  all,  however,  one  might  be  tempted  to 
suggest  and  might  be  excused  for  suggesting  that 
worlds  have  a  season  to  bring  forth,  as  do  animals 
and  plants,  and  that  in  their  proper  times  and  sea- 
sons, fixed  in  the  infinite  councils,  they  drop  their 
ripened  fruit  of  young  worlds  into  space. 


THE  LAWS  OF  RIVERFLOW 


THE  TRUE  THEORY  OF  STREAMS 


INTRODUCTORY. 

Of  the  investigations  of  the  ancients  on  the 
motion  of  fluids,  only  those  of  Archimedes  have 
come  down  to  us,  though  it  is  not  probable  that  one 
could  have  reached  the  station  that  he  adorned 
without  having  had  others  to  share  the  interest  he 
took  and  thus  to  encourage  him  in  his  work. 

After  his  time  many  centuries  passed  during 
which  not  a  word  of  all  the  records  that  have 
reached  us  tells  that  men  even  thought  of  the 
streams  as  a  matter  of  investigation. 

Hydromechanics  must  then  be  regarded  as  a 
modern  science  which  virtually  owes  its  existence 
to  the  great  men  who  adorned  the  seventeenth  and 
eighteenth  centuries.  Italy  may  be  said  to  have 
been  its  birthplace. 

Every  point  connected  with  the  theory  of  tor- 
rents and  rivers,  the  conducting  and  distribution 
of  water,  the  slopes,  the  directions,  and  the  varia- 
tions of  channels  were  sedulously  inquired  into  by 
Castelli,  Viviani,  Zendrini,  Manfredi,  Guglielmini, 
and  Frisi. 

The  study  was  really  inaugurated  by  Gallileo,  the 
father  of  modern  astronomy.  He  was  followed  by 
Castelli  and  Torricelli,  two  of  his  distinguished 
disciples  who,  stimulated  by  the  great  interest  the 
question  of  rivers  has  for  a  country  so  dependent 
on    irrigation   and    at  the    same  time  so   liable   to 

139 


I40  Introductory. 

disasters  by  floods  as  Italy,  attempted  to  apply 
to  rivers  the  principles  enunciated  by  their  great 
master. 

Guglielmini,  in  a  publication  made  in  1686,  came 
very  near  reaching  the  position  maintained  in  the 
present  treatise,  contending  that  the  retardation  of 
streams  and  the  regulation  of  their  movement  were 
due  to  transverse  currents  at  the  bottom  caused  by 
friction  against  the  rough  beds.  But  Mariotte,  an 
eminent  French  authority,  having  ascertained  by 
experiment  that  streams  were  likewise  retarded  in 
channels  made  of  smooth  glass,  Guglielmini  aban- 
doned his  position,  and  in  a  subsequent  edition  of  his 
works  tried  to  account  for  the  phenomena  on  other 
grounds.  Father  Grandi  also  recorded  observations 
in  which  he  had  seen  stones  carried  out  transversely 
against  the  banks  of  streams. 

When  the  transcendent  Newton  flashed  upon  the 
world  like  a  new  star  in  the  firmament  of  science 
and  philosophy,  he  deemed  the  subject  not  beneath 
his  attention.  He  spent  much  time  in  its  investiga- 
tion, and  even  devoted  a  part  of  the  Principia  to 
problems  relating  to  the  movement  of  fluids  in  tubes 
and  channels.  Since  his  time  a  multitude  of  able 
investigators  have  taken  their  turn  at  the  elusive 
puzzle.  Experiments  innumerable  have  been  made, 
and  at  least  three  sets  of  these,  namely,  those  of 
Captain  Gordon  on  the  Irawaddi,  Major  Allan  Cun- 
ningham on  the  Ganges  Canal,  and  Darcy  and  Bazin 
at  Paris,  make  reports  of  more  than  two  thousand 
pages  each.  Major  Cunningham  made  forty  thou- 
sand gaugings  and  experiments.      Prof.  James  Thom- 


Iiitrodiictorv.  141 

son,  brother  of  Lord  Kelvin,  and  a  man  of  great 
learning  and  ingenuity,  has  given  it  extensive  study, 
while  Forbes  and  Tyndall  have  investigated  the 
movements  of  glaciers. 

In  France  the  study  has  been  diligently  pursued 
for  nearly  two  centuries  by  such  eminent  men  as 
Mariotte,  already  mentioned,  Pascal,  D'Alembert, 
Dubuat,  Bossut,  Bernouilli,  Boileau,  Darcy,  and 
Bazin.  In  our  own  country.  Captain  Eads  and 
Humphrey  and  Abbott  are  among  those  who  have 
given  the  subject  close  and  extensive  study. 

It  was  not,  however,  by  following  up  the  experi- 
ments and  calculations  of  others  that  the  writer 
reached  what  he  is  entirely  confident  is  the  true 
solution. 

He  was  first  set  to  thinking  on  the  subject  by  a 
schoolboy  adventure.  In  the  early  spring  of  1858, 
on  an  uncomfortably  cold  day  for  the  season,  the 
author  and  a  fellow-student  went  swimming  in  the 
Ohio  near  Brandenburg,  Kentucky,  as  the  result  of  a 
banter.  His  companion  took  a  plunge  and  with- 
drew. But  he  himself,  having  rolled  a  treelap  into 
the  river,  tied  his  shoes  to  it  and  started  to  drift 
down,  with  the  intention  to  swim  ashore  in  a  short 
time  and  walk  back. 

After  floating  awhile  he  perceived  that  he  was 
being  gradually  borne  away  from  the  bank,  and  he 
then  made  an  effort  to  disengage  his  shoes.  Fail- 
ing in  this,  because  the  strings  had  become  wet,  he 
at  last  tore  them  loose  and  started  to  swim  ashore. 
But  by  this  time  he  had  got  so  far  out  from  the  shore 
that,  chilled  as  he  had  become,  he  reached  it  with 
difficulty. 


142  Introductory. 

Naturally  the  inquiry  arose,  ' '  Why  did  the  tree- 
lap  drift  away  from  the  shore  ? "  and  many  a  time  in 
after  years  the  question  recurred.  Wherever  oppor- 
tunity offered,  streams  were  scrutinized  with  a  view 
of  finding  an  answer. 

Step  by  step  a  little  headway  was  made,  until 
finally  a  few  years'  residence  on  the  banks  of  the 
Mississippi  supplied  an  opportunity  for  the  comple- 
tion of  the  theory. 


THE   LAWS   OF  RIVERFLOW. 

WHEN  we  contemplate  the  surface  of  the 
earth  with  regard  to  its  fitness  as  a 
dwelling-place  for  man,  this  appears  to  hold  a  vital 
relation  to  the  behavior  of  the  streams  of  water  that 
exist  upon  its  surface. 

The  water  precipitated  from  the  clouds  at  first 
collects  into  small  bodies,  each  of  which  carves  for 
itself  a  channel  along  which  it  flows,  presenting  an 
altogether  pleasing  alternation  of  pools  and  shal- 
lows. This  arrangement  renders  all  but  the  very 
smallest  of  streams  fit  homes  for  a  teeming  life 
which,  while  reveling  in  a  joyous  existence,  yet  Serves 
as  food  for  man. 

Gathering  next  into  rivers,  the  water  seeks  the 
great  ocean  reservoirs,  whence,  under  the  wooing  of 
the  sun,  it  may  again  return  to  revive  the  dry  land, 
to  sustain  the  various  tribes  of  living  forms  to  which 
it  affords  a  dwelling-place,  and  then  to  carry  back 
in  turn  a  grateful  tribute  to  feed  the  innumerable 
denizens  of  the  deep. 

How  these  rivulets,  rivers,  and  seas  that  not  only 
contribute  so  much  of  useful  service  to  the  inhab- 
itants of  the  earth  but  have  also  chiseled  every 
form  of  beauty  presented  by  its  surface  have  them- 
selves been  brought  into  existence,  is  a  subject 
worthy  of  patient  and  diligent  inquiry.  It  is  under 
the  conviction  that  new  light  may  be  shed  upon  the 
mechanism  and  laws  which  have  been  employed  and 


144  TJw  Lazvs  of  River floiv. 

observed  in  their  production  that  the  author  has 
been  led  to  make  publication  of  the  views  embraced 
in  the  present  effort,  firmly  confident  that  the  baf- 
fling secret  has  been  revealed. 

THE    BEGINNING    OF    THE    SEAS. 

When  the  incandescent  mass  of  which  the  earth 
at  one  time  consisted  first  became  sufficiently  cooled 
to  allow  the  clouds  of  vapor  which  surrounded  it  to 
condense  and  reach  its  surface  in  the  form  of  water, 
the  spots  where  the  water  fell  earliest  and  most 
abundantly  cooled  off  more  rapidly  than  others. 
The  parts  so  cooled  contracted  and  acquired  thereby 
a  greater  specific  gravity  than  the  surrounding  and 
hotter  superficial  masses  ;  and,  being  weighted  down 
by  the  waters  which  had  accumulated .  upon  them  as 
a  result  of  this  depression,  they  sank  still  further 
into  the  liquid  mass,  as  a  partly  filled  bowl  would 
sink  into  a  vessel  of  water. 

Since  the  polar  regions  were  the  lirst  part  of  the 
earth  to  cool  off,  this  beginning  of  the  seas  must 
have  taken  place  at  the  poles.  As  the  cooling  of 
the  earth  progressed,  the  areas  of  sea  formation 
increased  in  extent,  until  it  became  possible  for  water 
to  remain  on  the  entire  surface  of  the  earth. 

Until  a  solid  crust  of  some  considerable  thickness 
was  formed,  there  must  have  been,  from  a  multitude 
of  causes,  an  almost  continuous  shifting  of  the  sur- 
face level.  Thus  different  rates  of  heat-radiation 
from  the  earth's  surface,  deformation  due  to  the 
attraction  of  the  moon  and  sun,  and  even  to  a  slight 
extent  that  of  other  nearby  heavenly  bodies,  as  well 


The  Laivs  of  Riverflow.  145 

as  varying  chemical  combinations  in  the  deeper 
parts,  must  all  have  resulted  in  more  or  less  dis- 
turbance of  the  level. 

POLAR  UNDERCURRENTS. 

After  the  sea  had  attained  a  considerable  depth 
and  the  thickening  crust  had  been  divided  off  into 
ocean  bed  and  dry  land,  cold  undercurrents  set  in 
from  the  direction  of  the  poles,  and  the  earth  at  the 
bottom  of  the  seas  was  cooled  off  still  more  rapidly 
than  before,  and  more  rapidly  than  the  elevated  or 
dry  lands. 

For,  aside  from  the  influence  of  this  polar  under- 
current, water  is  a  better  agent  for  extracting  and 
dissipating  heat  than  the  atmosphere. 

Another  active  agency  in  lowering  the  specific 
gravity  of  the  dry  land  and  elevating  that  of  areas 
covered  by  the  sea  has  probably  been  the  contin- 
uous filtering  of  various  salts  from  the  elevated  lands 
and  their  transference  to  the  ocean  bottom.  For, 
as  the  bed  of  the  ocean  by  its  subsidence  gradually 
forced  upward  and  elevated  the  dry  lands,  water 
derived  from  rain  and  snow  has  percolated  them 
ever5rwhere  and  dissolved  out  vast  quantities  of  sol- 
uble substances  and  carried  them  into  the  sea,  both 
by  way  of  the  rivers  and  by  that  great  subterranean 
movement  of  seepage  that  is  continuously  going  on 
in  the  direction  of  the  ocean. 

This  process  has  left  the  dry  land  more  or  less 
honeycombed  throughout  and  of  diminished  specific 
gravity.  On  the  other  hand,  of  this  extracted  mat- 
ter,  the   soda   and    magnesia  salts    alone    have    re- 


146  Tlie  Lazvs  of  Riverflotv. 

mained  in  solution  in  the  sea  water  in  any  large 
proportion,  nearly  all  the  others  having  settled  down 
into  the  rocks  forming  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  and 
by  adding  to  the  density  and  weight  of  the  sea  bot- 
tom, by  so  much  increased  its  subsidence.  Thus 
the  greater  thickness  and  greater  specific  weight  of 
the  earth's  crust  forming  the  sea  bottom  causes  it 
to  overbalance  the  dry  land  and  produce  an  equi- 
librium, notwithstanding  the  fact  that  it  may  be  cov- 
ered several  miles  deep  with  water  whose  specific 
gravity  is  only  a  little  more  than  one  fifth  of  that  of 
the  mass  of  the  earth. 

If  all  the  causes  in  operation  have  been  taken 
into  account,  it  must  therefore  result  that  two  cones 
of  equal  angles  taken,  the  one  from  the  sea  and  the 
other  from  the  average  level  of  the  surface  of  the 
earth,  or  for  that  matter  even  from  the  highest 
mountain,  both  coming  to  a  point  at  the  center  of 
the  earth,  would  be  of  equal  weight. 

It  is  certain,  however,  that  there  are  other  but 
unknown  forces  at  work  determining  the  alternate 
rising  and  falling  of  the  crust  of  the  earth,  or  at 
least  of  its  surface.  All  the  known  forces  make  for 
permanence  ;  all  tend  to  deepen  the  sea  and  to  ele- 
vate the  land.  And  yet  the  part  of  the  earth's  sur- 
face that  now  constitutes  the  dry  land  has  been 
submerged  beneath  the  ocean  waters  and  again  has 
risen  above  them  times  innumerable.  How  this  has 
come  about  no  one  professes  to  know,  and  not  even 
a  guess  has  been  ventured  in  explanation. 

Though  scarcely  relevant  to  our  discussion,  the 
vast  elevations   known  as  mountains  may  be  men- 


The  Lazvs  of  Riverflow.  147 

tioned  as  offering  like  difficulty.  Mathematicians 
have  sought  to  calculate  the  strength  of  the  earth's 
crust  that  would  be  adequate  to  the  sustaining  of  the 
mountain  ranges  and  preventing  them  from  settling 
down  to  the  earth's  level.  Yet,  who  knows  that  they 
bear  heavier  on  the  earth's  surface  ^:han  does  an 
equal  area  of  the  plain  or  of  the  ocean  ?  It  may  be 
that  they  actually  superimpose  an  additional  weight 
upon  that  part  of  the  earth  where  they  are  situated, 
and  that  they  now  rest  upon  a  rigid  support  that 
prevents  them  from  sinking  down  with  the  part  of 
the  earth's  crust  that  is  beneath  them. 

Still,  they  must  have  been  lifted  up  while  yet 
resting  on  a  plastic  foundation,  otherwise  they  could 
not  have  been  elevated  with  their  present  contour. 
Why  did  they  not,  then,  subside  while  their  founda- 
tion was  yet  plastic,  or  who  is  able  to  say  that  they 
are  not  now  supported  by  the  same  force  that  raised 
them  ?  The  same  mighty  power  is  doubtless  at  play 
with  the  mountains  as  with  the  ocean  bed,  though 
its  methods  are  as  yet  unknown. 

The  operation  of  this  mechanism,  viz.,  the  sub- 
sidence of  the  ocean  and  the  elevation  of  the  land,  is 
probably  the  chief  factor  in  the  production  of  vol- 
canoes, and  largely  a  factor  in  the  production  of 
earthquakes.  If  a  piece  of  cardboard  and  one  of 
writing-paper  be  pressed  against  each  other  edge- 
wise, the  thin  paper  wall  bend  before  the  cardboard, 
and  if  they  rest  on  an  unyielding  surface  the  con- 
vexity of  the  bend  in  the  thin  paper  will  be  upward 
and  close  to  the  edge.  In  like  manner  the  thin  dry- 
land   crust,    when    pressed     edgewise     against    the 


I4<^  The  Laws  of  Rhierflow. 

stronger  sea-bottom  crust  by  the  force  of  the  earth's 
shrinkage,  bends  with  an  upward  convexity  near  the 
sea  in  such  a  way  as  that  the  curve  near  the  edge 
of  the  sea  bottom,  as  well  as  that  near  the  edge  of 
the  land  crust,  constantly  becomes  sharper. 

Every  increase  in  the  curve  of  the  sea-bottom 
crust  will  produce  a  number  of  A-shaped  fissures  in 
its  under  surface  ;  and  every  increase  in  the  convexity 
of  the  adjacent  land  crust  will  produce  a  number  of 
V-shaped  fissures  in  its  upper  part.  Now,  into  the 
A-shaped  fissures,  when  formed,  expansible  material 
will  escape,  and  often  large  masses  of  sea  water, 
when  these  fissures  happen  to  extend  up  through 
the  sea-bottom  crust,  will  drop  into  them  and  be 
exposed  to  intense  heat. 

The  mass  thus  suddenly  heated  and  enormously 
expanded  can  not  easily  escape  through  the  apex  of 
the  A-shaped  fissure,  for  the  walls  of  its  apex  will 
consist  of  solid  material,  held  together  arch-like  by 
the  enormous  weight  of  the  sloping  seashore  above, 
capped,  as  it  often  is,  by  great  mountain  ranges. 

The  expanding  mass  will  therefore  pass  up  under 
the  land  crust,  where,  finding  the  V-shaped  fissures 
extending  down  to  the  softened  incandescent  mass 
beneath,  it  will  escape  through  it,  and  thus  give  rise 
to  a  volcano.  Or,  failing  to  find  such  a  vent,  it  will 
spread  out  as  a  wave  and  give  rise  to  an  earthquake. 

It  is  well  to  note  that  even  if  the  sea-bottom 
crust  is  no  thicker  or  heavier  than  the  land  crust, 
but  only  equally  as  thick,  it  must,  other  things  being 
equal,  be  made  more  rigid  by  reason  of  the  weight 
of  the  ocean  water  resting  upon  it. 


The  Lazvs  of  Riverfloiv.  149 

Nor  is  it  quite  impossible,  judging  from  what  we 
now  know  of  the  vaporization  of  metals  and  their 
movement  under  electrical  influence,  that  the  succes- 
sive rising  and  subsidence  of  the  earth's  surface  are 
largely  due  to  shifting  of  metallic  masses  determined 
by  the  power  of  the  great  earth-currents  of  electricity. 

THE    GENESIS    OF    RIVERS. 

As  soon  as  the  level  of  the  sea  became  suffi- 
ciently lowered,  drainage  began  from  the  elevated 
lands  and  initiated  the  formation  of  streams,  a  part 
of  which  ultimately  became  rivers. 

These  grew  with  the  widening  lands  through  the 
long  aeons  of  time  ;  and  when  man  appeared  upon 
the  scene,  they  must,  from  the  earliest  unfoldings  of 
intelligent  curiosity,  have  been  among  the  chief 
features  that  attached  him  to  his  dwelling-place. 
They  yielded  at  first,  most  probably,  his  main  supply 
of  animal  food.  They  formed  one  of  the  earliest 
and  often  one  of  the  easiest  means  of  intercommuni- 
cation, as  well  as  the  natural  boundaries  of  countries. 
And  with  the  birth  of  civilization  the  waters  of  the 
rivers  made  the  desert  bloom  and  yield  the  readiest 
of  all  attainable  harvests  ;  and  thus  they  became  in 
many  lands  objects  even  of  divine  adoration. 

They  must  have  been  regarded  from  the  begin- 
ning, as  they  still  are,  as  among  the  most  pleasing 
ornaments  of  the  landscape.  Nor  have  they  yet 
ceased  to  supply  the  painter  with  an  exhaustless 
theme  and  the  poet  with  a  generous  inspiration. 

Sustaining  so  many  important  relations  to  the 
happiness  and  well-being  of  mankind,  it  is  reason- 


I  50  TJic  Laws  of  Riverflozv. 

able  to  suppose  that  they  were  from  early  ages 
objects  of  curious  regard,  as  they  have  been  in  more 
recent  times  of  much  profound  research. 

PROBLEMS    THAT    PUZZLE. 

And  yet  of  the  various  important  problems  that 
have  arisen  from  time  to  time,  having  a  bearing 
upon  the  true  theory  of  streams,  many  remain  to- 
day confessedly  without  solution,  and  many  striking 
phenomena  wholly  unexplained.  Included  in  this 
category,  the  following  questions  present  them- 
selves as  entirely  unanswered,  and  must  be  regarded 
as  the  touchstone  or  criterion  by  which  the  truth  of 
any  theory  is  to  be  tried  ;  for,  with  the  facts  they 
indicate,  any  true  and  consistent  theory  must  accord  : 

(i)  Why  are  there  brooks  and  rivers.''  By  what 
means  has  water  been  enabled  to  cut  channels 
through  masses  of  solid  substances  having  a  specific 
gravity  two  and  a  half  to  five  times  its  own .'' 

(2)  Why  are  the  channels  of  streams  trough- 
shaped,  or  representations  of  a  segment  of  a  cylin- 
drical tube .'' 

(3)  Why  are  there  deeps  and  shallows  in  streams, 
and  why  do  rivers  enter  the  sea  over  beds  sloping 
upward .'' 

(4)  Why  does  floating  material  drift  from  the 
margins  to  the  middle  of  streams  .■' 

(5)  Why  is  the  swiftest  point,  or  locus  of  great- 
est speed,  in  streams  not  at  the  surface,  but  at  a 
considerable  distance  beneath .'' 

(6)  Why  is  the  surface  of  streams  not  level  when 
measured  on  cross-section,  but  higher  in  the  mid- 
dle than  at  the  margins.? 


The  Lazvs  of  Rivcrflow.  151 

(7)  Why  do  rivers  flowing  through  deltas  throw- 
up  elevations  or  natural  levees  along  their  banks  ? 

(8)  Why  do  rivers  entering  the  sea  through  deltas 
of  their  own  forming  have  multiple  mouths  ? 

(9)  Why  does  water  moving  in  steep  channels 
attain  so  much  less  speed  than  would  solid  bodies 
under  like  conditions  ? 

The  correct  answer  to  all  these  questions  the 
writer  believes  to  lie  in  a  correct  interpretation  of  a 
principle  underlying  the  motion  of  all  liquids  as  well 
as  fluids,  which  he  believes  he  has  discovered,  and 
which  he  has  denominated  ' '  The  /aw  of  the  double 
spiral. 

(l)    WHY   THERE   ARE    BROOKS    AND    RIVERS,   AND    HOW 

IT   IS  THAT  WATER  IN  STREAMS   HAS   ERODED 

CHANNELS    IN  SUBSTANCES    HAVING   A 

SPECIFIC    GRAVITY    GREATER 

THAN    ITS    OV^N. 

To  illustrate  the  principle,  let  us  begin  with  a 
stream  in  the  first  steps  of  channel  formation.  Let 
us  suppose  a  quantity  of  water  to  be  steadily  poured 
upon  a  smooth  surface  of  erosible  material,  and  one 
of  sufficient  incline  to  determine  motion  of  the  liquid  ; 
and  let  us  farther  conceive  this  stream  of  water  to 
consist  of  columns  of  molecules. 

At  first  the  water  will  move  down  the  incline  in 
a  thin  stratum,  limited  and  restrained  on  either  side 
by  a  wall  held  together  by  that  form  of  adhesion 
known  as  surface  tension  ;  just  as  a  drop  of  water 
on  the  floor  will  remain  inclosed  in  a  wall  of  its  own 
particles  and  retain  its  form. 


152  The  Laws  of  River  flow. 

In  the  stream  thus  supposed  to  be  formed  the 
column  of  particles  at  the  outer  edge  on  each  side 
and  next  within  these  walls  will  be  retarded  more 
than  any  of  the  columns  within  ;  and  as  friction  at 
the  bottom  must  be  greater  than  at  the  top,  this 
will  cause  the  particle  at  the  lower  end  of  each  exter- 
nal column  to  be  most  retarded  of  all  the  particles. 
Now,  not  only  will  this  lower  most  outward  molecule 
be  retarded,  but  it  will  be  progressively  and  contin- 
uously retarded  ;  so  that  if  a  new  impulse  is  not 
given  it,  if  new  force  is  not  imparted  to  it,  it  must 
in  time  come  to  an  absolute  standstill. 

However,  the  lines  of  particles  following  each 
other  in  this  order,  that  is,  nearest  the  bottom  and 
nearest  the  edge,  will  not  be  uniformly  retarded 
even  in  the  smoothest  channel  ;  for  the  lines  will  be 
pulled  apart  times  innumerable.  And  since  the 
width  of  the  stream  must  be  maintained  and  its 
area  conserved  in  order  that  a  constant  quantity  of 
water  may  pass  any  given  point,  whenever  such  a 
break  begins  to  occur,  that  is,  whenever  a  gap  in  the 
line  is  forming,  it  must  be  filled  from  the  column  of 
molecules  next  within,  for  the  reason  that  there  is 
none  on  the  outside  from  which  it  can  be  filled. 

Now,  the  column  of  particles  next  on  the  inside 
has  a  greater  speed  than  the  outer  one,  and  from 
whatever  part  of  such  column  the  particle  may  be 
supplied,  it  will  be  moving  faster  than  the  one  it 
may  have  supplanted. 

If  a  rod  were  thrust  to  the  bottom  of  a  mass  of 
water,  however  deep,  and  then  drawn  out  instanta- 
neously,  the  hole  thus  made  would  fill  first  at  the 


TJic  Latvs  of  River flozv.  i  5  3 

bottom  from  the  contiguous  particles  surrounding  it. 
Likewise  where  there  is  a  tendency  to  form  a  vacu- 
um, and  a  suction  is  produced  thereby,  this  form- 
ing vacuum  will  be  supplied  or  filled  by  a  molecule 
from  the  bottom  of  the  next  column  within. 

As  this  other  molecule  moves  out,  its  place  must 
in  turn  be  taken  by  some  other.  The  one  before  it 
is  moving  on  ;  the  one  behind  it  would  have  to  in- 
crease its  speed,  but  is  itself  being  retarded  ;  so  this 
vacuum,  or  tendency  to  a  vacuum,  must  be  met 
or  supplied  by  the  next  molecule  within.  This  proc- 
ess will  continue  until  the  middle  of  the  stream  is 
reached  from  either  side. 

When  the  stream  has  been  equally  divided  on 
the  basis  of  retarding  forces  and  the  middle  has 
been  reached  from  each  side  by  this  outward  move- 
ment, the  molecules  displaced  either  by  further  re- 
tardation or  by  the  outward  movement  below  must 
be  replaced  from  above.  This  will  cause  a  constant 
downward  movement  at  the  middle  of  the  stream 
or  in  the  line  of  the  current. 

The  outward  movement  of  the  particles  at  the 
bottom  of  the  stream  will  be  attended  by  a  mo- 
mentum proportionate  to  its  extent,  and  the  result 
will  be  that  as  these  outward  moving  particles  or 
masses  strike  against  the  limiting  wall  or  bank,  and 
can  go  no  farther,  the  water  there  will  be  lifted  up 
and  an  elevation  or  ridge  will  be  formed  along  each 
edge  of  the  stream,  so  that  its  surface  will  take  the 
form  of  a  trough. 

Having  now  in  the  smallest  supposed  stream 
illustrated   the  molecular  movement,   we  will   next 


154 


TJic  Lazus  of  River  flow. 


take  a  larger  stream  for  the  purpose  of  easier  un- 
derstanding, and  suppose  it  to  have  reached  the 
stage  where  the  water  has  been  heaped  up  at  the 
sides  by  the  outward  movement  below.  The  sur- 
face of  the  stream  will  now  form  a  longitudinal 
depression  or  trough.  Each  half  of  this  trough  will 
have  at  the  surface  an  incline  in  two  directions : 
one  toward  the  depressed  middle  of  the  stream 
and  the  other  downward  in  the  line  of  the  stream 
bed  or  channel. 


TRANSVERSE  SECTION  OF  STREAM. 

A — Elevated  middle  of  stream. 

B — Locus  of  greatest  speed. 

C — Center  of  cylinder. 

The  arrows  show  the  direction  of  the  spiral  motion. 

The  water  which  has  been  heaped  up  at  the  banks 
by  the  momentum  of  the  outward  undercurrent 
will,  therefore,  as  a  resultant,  flow  obliquely  down- 
ward and  inward,  by  a  countercurrent  at  the  sur- 
face, from  the  margins  to  the  middle. 

At  the  same  time,  the  water  having  been  drawn 
from  the  bottom  at  the  middle  of  the  stream,  toward 
each  of  the  banks,  the  overlying  portions  will  sink 
down  to  take  its  place.  In  obedience  to  these  forces, 
therefore,  every  stream  moving  in  a  channel  formed 


The  Laws  of  Riverflow.  IC5 

of  resisting  material  of  necessity  resolves  itself  into 
two  equal  cylinders  revolving  spirally  on  parallel 
axes  in  opposite  directions  ;  that  is,  outward  at  the 
bottom,  upward  at  the  margins,  inward  at  the  top, 
and  downward  through  the  middle. 

We  may  now  pass  to  a  consideration  of  the  valid- 
ity of  the  response  which  this  principle,  denominated 
the  law  of  the  double  spiral,  offers  to  the  test  ques- 
tions already  suggested  as  a  criterion. 

If,  as  generally  held,  water  moves  along  in 
streams  by  strata  or  layers,  one  gliding  over  another, 
the  result  of  such  action  could  not  be  the  formation 
of  channels.  In  such  case,  scour  could  be  effected 
only  by  the  bottom  layers,  and  these  after  a  short 
time  would  become  laden  to  the  limit  with  silt. 
Since  the  mountain  streams  would  take  up  and  bear 
along  with  them  more  of  silt  than  the  lower  layers 
in  the  large  streams  could  carry,  the  tendency  would 
be  to  drop  it  on  reaching  the  valleys  ;  and  the  effect 
would  be  to  fill  up  rather  than  to  scour  out  channels. 

Nor  is  there  any  reason  to  believe  that  on  any 
principle  hitherto  recognized  the  action  of  water 
would  tend  to  the  formation  of  channels.  No  rea- 
son can  be  given  in  the  present  state  of  science  why 
water  should  not  spread  out  over  the  land  indiffer- 
ently, and  thus  make  its  way  by  a  slow,  creeping 
movement  to  the  sea,  instead  of  carving  out  chan- 
nels and  traveling  in  them. 

The  explanation  ready  in  the  minds  of  most  peo- 
ple is,  that  rivers  are  formed  by  the  water  seeking 
the  lowest  continued  depressions  along  construc- 
tional  slopes.      But   this  explanation,  at  first  blush 


156  The  Laws  of  River fioiv. 

apparently  so  obvious,  fails  when  we  examine  the 
rivers  of  deltas,  or  rivers  that  have  reached  the  sea 
through  deposits  of  silt  with  which  they  have  en- 
croached upon  the  ocean.  In  these  situations  it 
will  commonly  be  found  that  the  rivers  have  actually 
carried  detritus  out  into  the  sea  and  walled  off  the 
sea  water  by  building  up  banks  for  themselves,  and 
thus  made  their  own  channels. 

At  the  mouths  of  the  Mississippi  one  ma}'  travel 
for  miles  on  boats  through  the  passes  so  near  to  the 
sea  water,  walled  off  by  the  action  of  the  river,  that 
a  stone  may  be  thrown  into  the  Gulf  across  the 
banks  that  reach  out  like  so  many  fingers  into  the 
sea. 

(2)  WHY    THE  CHANNELS    OF    STREAMS    ARE    TROUGH- 
SHAPED    OR    FIGURED    AFTER    A    SEGMENT 
OF    A    CIRCULAR    TUBE. 

It  is  obvious  that  when  the  water  of  the  upper 
part  of  a  stream  leaves  the  banks  to  begin  its  flow 
to  the  middle,  it  continues  to  increase  its  speed,  not 
only  until  it  reaches  the  point  where  in  turn  it  must 
change  its  course  obliquely  downward  toward  the 
bottom,  but  also  for  some  distance  beneath  the 
surface. 

The  water  of  the  most  rapid  part  of  the  stream, 
therefore,  has  also  the  most  direct  course  downward 
against  the  bottom,  and  so  in  the  line  of  this  part, 
which  is  the  current,  the  greatest  extent  of  scour  or 
erosion  must  take  place.  Every  stream,  then,  other 
things  being  equal,  must  be  deepest  in  the  middle  or 
in  the  line  of  its  current.      The  water  passing  down 


TJw  Laws  of  River fioio.  157 

from  the  surface  increases  in  speed  until  it  traverses 
about  three  tenths  of  the  distance  to  the  bottom, 
when  it  begins  to  suffer  the  retardation  resulting 
from  the  resistance  of  the  bottom  of  the  channel, 
so  that  when  it  reaches  the  bottom  its  speed  is 
nearly  the  same  as,  or  even  less  than,  that  at  the 
surface. 

This  retardation  now  steadily  and  progressively 
increases  as  the  water  at  the  bottom  moves  obliquely 
outward  toward  the  bank,  and  the  erosion  of  the 
bottom  of  the  channel  steadily  decreases  with  the 
retardation  of  the  water.  At  length  the  speed  be- 
comes too  small  for  any  erosion  to  take  place,  when 
the  water,  rising  toward  the  top,  begins  again  its 
movement  to  the  middle.  This  movement  for  any 
stream  must  determine  its  limit  as  to  width,  and 
result  in  the  formation  of  a  trough-shaped  channel. 

T-here  is  probably  also  a  far  wider  application  for 
the  principle  than  the  one  here  under  consideration. 

As  will  be  shown  farther  on,  water  in  streams 
moves  in  a  most  irregular  way,  little  masses  being 
projected  inward  and  outward,  upward  and  down- 
ward, continually.  As  long  as  the  irregular  masses 
come  in  contact  only  with  other  portions  of  the 
stream,  they  expend  their  momentum  in  producing 
widespread  and  uniform  disturbances  of  equilibrium. 
But  if  they  meet  with  resistance  from  a  solid,  the 
impact  produces  increase  of  pressure  at  the  solid 
surface. 

It  is  evident  that  this  increase  of  pressure  in  a 
stream,  being  directed  mainly  against  the  stream 
walls,  is  an  additional  factor  in  determining  an  out- 


158  The  Laws  of  River  flow. 

ward  and  upward  movement  of  the  water  along  the 
sloping  bottom  and  sides,  respectively. 

It  is  true  that,  strictly  speaking,  no  actually 
trough-shaped  channel  exists  ;  yet  the  form  of  every 
channel  eroded  through  homogeneous  materials  is  in 
the  mean  that  of  a  trough.  For  if  one  of  the  banks 
is  abrupt,  the  opposite  one  will  have  a  gentler  slope 
than  usual,  and  this  will  compensate  for  the  depart- 
ure of  the  other  from  the  natural  order  or  average. 

But  there  must  also  be  a  law  of  limit  as  to  the 
depth  as  well  as  for  width  ;  otherwise  streams 
would  go  on  indefinitely  deepening. 

Whatever  the  slope  of  its  bed,  every  stream 
consists  of  a  succession  of  deeps  and  shallows,  but 
these  always  bear  a  relation  to  the  size  of  the 
stream  ;  and  no  matter  how  soft  the  material  of  the 
bed  may  be,  the  general  depth  is  proportionate  to 
the  size  of  the  stream. 

The  reason  given  by  Paul  Frisi,  one  of  the  most 
eminent  of  the  Italian  engineers,  and  the  cause  gen- 
erally accepted  in  his  time  for  the  arrest  of  the 
deepening  of  channels  and  pools  was,  that  after 
reaching  an  uncertain  depth  the  bottoms  of  stream 
beds  become  paved  with  coarse  sand  and  gravel 
where  they  do  not  already  consist  of  rock,  and  that 
thus  further  erosion  is  prevented.  And  curiously 
enough,  up  to  this  date,  so  far  as  the  writer  knows, 
no  other  explanation  has  ever  been  offered. 

Every  one,  however,  who  has  made  any  practical 
study  of  streams  knows  that  this  is  not  the  fact. 
Gravel  and  sand  in  creeks,  and  boulders  in  rivers, 
are  not  found  in  the  deep  places  but  in  the  shallow 


The  Laws  of  Rivcrfio%v.  159 

places,  that  is,  on  the  riffles.  The  cause  of  the  arrest 
of  erosion  must  then  be  sought  elsewhere. 

Sir  Charles  Lyell  gave  it  out  as  the  result  of  a 
number  of  experiments  made  under  his  supervision, 
that  water  moving  at  a  velocity  of  forty  feet  per 
minute  will  sweep  along  coarse  sand  ;  one  of  sixty 
feet,  fine  gravel ;  one  of  one  hundred  and  twenty 
feet,  rounded  pebbles  ;  and  one  of  one  hundred  and 
eighty  feet  (a  little  more  than  two  miles  an  hour), 
angular  stones  of  the  size  of  an  ^^g.  These  experi- 
ments have  been  accepted  as  authoritative  by  many 
writers  on  the  subject,  and  appear  in  several  ency- 
clopedias. 

What  the  depth  of  the  water  was,  employed  by 
Lyeil  in  his  experiments,  I  have  not  been  able  to 
ascertain.  Evidently  they  are  not  complete,  as 
leaving  out  of  the  account  larger  masses  of  rock  that 
we  know  are  moved  by  the  force  of  streams  ;  and  it 
can  probably  be  shown,  also,  that  they  are  in  other 
respects  misleading. 

To  reach  the  conclusion  required  by  the  explana- 
tion about  to  be  offered  for  the  phenomenon  in 
question,  it  becomes  necessary  to  modify  not  only 
the  results  given  out  by  Sir  Charles  Lyell,  but  also 
another  misapprehension  some  rest  under  in  the 
matter  of  hydraulics.  It  is  held  that  motion  of  a 
body  in  water  is  not  affected  by  the  amount  of 
pressure  on  the  water,  though  this  really  applies 
only  to  the  motion  of  bodies  without  appreciable 
thickness.  Otherwise  this  would  be  to  claim  that 
a  fish  with  the  same  effort  might  swim  as  rapidly  in 
water  a  mile  deep  as  a  fathom  deep.      If  this  were 


i6o  TJic  Lcnvs  of  River flcnv. 

to  hold  without  modification,  the  depth  of  the  water 
would  count  for  nothing  in  the  matter  of  lifting  and 
transporting  any  form  of  detritus.  After  the  depth 
of  water  became  sufficient  to  cover  the  object  to  be 
moved,  its  removal  would  be  a  question  of  the  speed 
of  the  water  alone. 

But  we  have  just  seen  that  gravel,  sand,  and 
boulders  are  found  not  in  the  deeps  in  creeks  and 
rivers,  but  in  shallows  or  on  riffles  ;  so  that,  if  a 
boulder  be  cast  into  a  deep  place,  it  will  be  picked 
up  in  times  of  flood  and  carried  to  the  next  shallow 
below,  and  there  dropped  into  water  swifter  than 
that  from  which  it  was  removed. 

This  will  often  happen  with  stones  of  large  size. 
From  a  ledge  of  rock  just  below  Brandenburg,  in 
Kentucky,  as  the  writer  has  observed,  large  masses 
of  limestone  have  been  torn  away  by  the  Ohio 
floods,  and,  after  being  carried  some  three  miles 
further  down,  cast  out  onto  the  overflowed  banks. 

The  erosive  power  of  a  stream  must  then  have  a 
relation  to  the  depth  as  well  as  the  speed.  This 
may  not  be  and  probably  is  not  directly  as  the 
product  of  the  speed  by  the  depth,  but  it  is  doubt- 
less some  fixed  product  of  the  speed  by  the  depth. 
As  the  relation  is  most  probably  constant,  whatever 
it  may  be,  we  will  for  purposes  of  argument  assume 
that  it  is  direct. 

To  make  this  better  understood,  we  may  con- 
ceive a  stream  to  occupy  a  rectangular  canal.  Now, 
it  is  easy  to  perceive  that  if  the  water  is  made  just 
half  the  depth,  it  must  move  just  twice  as  fast,  in 
order  that   the    same   quantity   shall   pass   a  given 


The  Latvs  of  Riverflozv.  i6i 

point  in  a  given  time.  If  we  take  away  one  third 
the  depth  we  must  add  one  third  to  the  speed,  and 
so  on  reciprocally  for  all  other  proportions. 

Assuming,  now,  that  erosive  power  is  the  product 
of  the  speed  by  the  depth  or  the  weight  of  water, 
we  obtain  a  numerical  formula  that  bears  out  ob- 
servation. 

In  a  canal  such  as  we  have  supposed  with  a  con- 
stant width,  let  a  be  the  normal  depth  and  b  the 
normal  speed.  Now,  any  variation  of  a  and  b  from 
this  normal  giving  the  same  sum  will  give  a  dimin- 
ished product,  whether  that  be  the  increase  of  a  and 
the  lessening  of  b,  or  an  addition  to  <5  by  a  subtrac- 
tion from  a  —  that  is,  a  multiplied  by  b  will  give  a 
larger  product  than  any  other  numbers  into  which 
the  sum  of  a  and  b  can  be  divided. 

If  a  is  four  and  b  four,  their  product  will  be 
greater  than  that  of  any  other  numbers  into  which 
their  sum,  which  is  eight,  can  be  divided. 

This  can  readily  be  gathered  from  the  annexed 
table,  thus  : 


Depth.      Spee( 

d. 

Sum. 

Depth.     Spee< 

i.      Product. 

8     + 

o 

= 

8 

8 

X 

o 

= 

O 

7    -h 

I 

= 

8 

7 

X 

I 

= 

7 

6    + 

o 

= 

8 

6 

X 

2 

= 

12 

5    + 

3 

== 

8 

5 

X 

3 

= 

15 

4    -f 

4 

= 

8 

4 

X 

4 

= 

i6 

3     + 

5 

= 

8 

3 

X 

5 

= 

15 

2      -h 

6 

= 

8 

2 

X 

6 

= 

12 

I       + 

7 

= 

8 

I 

X 

7 

= 

7 

o     + 

8 

= 

8 

O 

X 

8 

= 

o 

We  find,  then,  that  if  a  stream  varies  in  either 
direction  from  a  certain  relation  of  speed  and  depth. 


1 62  The  Lazvs  of  River  flow. 

which  may  be  denominated  the  normal,  erosive 
power  diminishes,  finally  ceasing  altogether  as  zero 
is  reached  on  the  one  hand  or  the  other. 

Not  only  does  the  general  depth  of  streams  depend 
upon  the  conditions  expressed  in  the  foregoing  form- 
ula, but  also  the  production  of  the  deep  pools  that 
in  nearly  all  streams  alternate  with  shallows.  How- 
ever, the  positions  these  formations  occupy  relatively 
to  each  other  must  be  due  to  some  other  modifying 
influence. 

Since  we  find  deep  places  far  apart  in  the  larger 
rivers  and  close  together  in  the  smaller  streams,  we 
would  naturally  infer  wave  action  as  the  modifying 
force.  And  so  no  doubt  it  is  to  a  very  large  extent, 
but  these  deeps  and  shallows  are  so  irregular  in  fre- 
quency and  length  that  we  can  not  avoid  suspecting 
that  some  other  force  is  in  operation  besides  wave 
action.  In  another  essay  of  the  series,  which  relates 
to  the  action  of  the  liquid  wedge,  we  may  find  an 
auxiliary  force  that  will  supply  the  needed  causative 
influence. 

But  whatever  it  may  be  that  determines  the  pro- 
duction of  deeps  and  shallows,  in  addition  to  account- 
ing for  the  arrest  of  deepening  in  these  places,  we 
must  account  for  the  fact  already  mentioned,  that 
in  deep  places  masses  of  heavy  material  such  as 
boulders  are  picked  up  by  the  water  during  floods 
and  dropped  in  the  faster  moving  shallow  water  below. 

This,  too,  will  be  found  embraced  by  the  formula. 
To  account  for  it  we  assume  that  during  floods  the 
same  additional  height  is  added  to  the  deep  and  the 
shallow  parts  of  the  stream.      This  adds  more  to  the 


■<....  t«.;:»HS 


The  Lazvs  of  Riverjloxv.  163 

speed  of  the  deep  water  than  it  does  depth  to  the 
previously  shallow  water,  and  so  sends  the  normal 
speed -point  downward  faster  in  the  deep  water 
than  in  the  shallow,  and  the  product  of  the  depth 
by  the  speed  now  becomes  greater  in  the  deep  water 
than  in  the  shallow. 

It  is  not  to  be  lost  sight  of  that  in  the  short 
pools  as  in  the  long  river  stretches  the  acting  forces 
are  subject  to  the  regimen  established  by  the  next 
obstruction  below,  which,  if  removed,  would  allow 
the  channel  of  the  affected  part  to  be  cut  deeper. 

(  3  )  WHY  CHANNELS  OF  STREAMS  ARE  AS  A  RULE  DEEP 

NEAR    THEIR    ENTRANCE    INTO    THE    SEA,    AND 

YET     ENTER    IT    WITH     BOTTOMS 

SLOPING    UPWARD. 

At  the  mouth  of  nearly  every  stream  entering  the 
sea  there  is  a  shallow  place  in  the  channel  near  the 
entrance,  but  immediately  above  this  shallow  or  bar 
the  water  is  almost  invariably  deep.  The  rule  is, 
therefore,  that  rivers  enter  the  ocean  over  channel 
beds  sloping  upward.  The  cause  of  this  bar  at  the 
mouth  is  simply  the  precipitation  of  silt  from  the 
river  water,  due  to  the  arrest  of  its  speed  on  reach- 
ing the  sea.  But  the  deepening  of  the  channel 
above  this  bar  has  a  different  cause. 

When  the  tide  is  flowing  in  at  the  mouth  of  a 
river  the  water  is  dammed  back  until  it  is  level  with 
the  adjacent  tide.  As  the  tide  falls  the  ocean  water 
can  retreat  more  quickly  than  the  river  water  can 
flow  out,  and  the  result  is  a  great  slope  of  the  water 
in  the  river  where  it  joins  the  sea. 


164  The  Latvs  of  Rivcrflozv. 

At  first,  only  the  water  above  the  sea  level  will 
escape,  the  lower  part  of  the  river  being  undis- 
turbed. This  soon  brings  about  a  condition  very 
favorable  to  the  development  of  the  double  spiral  ; 
for  a  head  in  the  river  a  little  way  up,  caused  by 
the  outflow  of  the  upper  part  of  the  water  next  to 
the  sea,  will  quickly  start  the  water  to  rising  at  the 
edges,  and  will  thus  inaugurate  a  brisk  flow,  both 
spirally  and  longitudinally.  The  result  will  neces- 
sarily be  the  boring  out  of  a  deep  place  in  the  river 
channel  near  the  sea.  It  is  a  question  whether 
there  is  not  a  tendency  to  bore  out  deep  places  in 
streams  above  all  obstructions,  partly  due  to  shock 
and  partly  to  the  causes  just  considered. 

(4)    WHY    FLOATING    MATERIAL    DRIFTS    TO    THE 
MIDDLE    OF    STREAMS. 

As  a  result  of  the  double-spiral  movement  of 
water  in  streams,  and  one  of  the  strongest  proofs 
of  its  existence,  may  be  cited  the  well-known  fact 
that  floating  material  tends  to  drift  from  the  mar- 
gins to  the  middle  of  all  enchanneled  streams.  This 
is  unvaryingly  the  case. 

It  is  true  that  when  rivers  are  low,  as  in  summer, 
and  the  current  is  very  slow,  if  the  banks  are  high 
the  attraction  of  gravity  will  cause  floatage  to  move 
to  the  shore.  Winds  at  any  time  may  carry  drift  to 
the  shore.  All  this,  however,  does  not  alter  the 
tendency  of  floating  material  to  move  toward  the 
middle  of  streams,  but  merely  overcomes  it  for  the 
time  being. 


The  Lazvs  of  Riverfiow .  165 

Now,  no  one  will  insist  that  this  drift  skips  across 
the  water.  The  water  that  carries  it  to  the  middle 
must  go  with  it.  If,  then,  it  be  true  that  the  water 
at  the  surface  of  a  stream,  everywhere  and  perpet- 
ually, moves  from  both  sides  toward  the  middle,  tJie 
conclusion  is  absolutely  irresistible  that  it  must  sink 
down  in  the  middle  and  return  to  the  margins  by  a 
cou7itercurrent  beneath. 

At  the  meeting  of  the  Mississippi  River  Commis- 
sion at  St.  Louis,  in  1884,  Gen.  John  Newton,  Chief 
of  Engineers,  U.  S.  A. ,  kindly  submitted  this  theory 
to  the  commission  with  his  approval,  a  copy  having 
been  sent  him  for  consideration  by  Gen.  W.  B. 
Hazen,  Chief  of  the  U.  S.  Signal  Service. 

Objections  were  offered  against  it  at  the  meeting 
on  the  ground  that  pilots  and  other  river  men  had 
observed  that  floating  material  is  carried  away  from 
the  middle  of  streams  in  rising  water,  and  that  it  is 
more  difficult  to  keep  tows,  rafts,  etc.,  out  of  the 
banks  in  rising  water  than  in  falling,  and  that  it  is  only 
in  falling  water  that  floating  material  drifts  to  the 
middle. 

The  matter  was  again  brought  forward  by  Gen. 
Newton  at  the  next  succeeding  meeting  of  the 
American  Society  of  Civil  Engineers,  at  Brooklyn, 
where  it  was  met  with  the  same  objections. 

The  first  of  these  objections,  if  valid,  would  be 
fatal  to  the  theory  ;  and  it  is  strange  with  what  uni- 
formity it  is  urged  by  men  whose  life  is  on  the  river. 
It  is  in  no  sense  true,  however,  being  based  on  an 
error  of  observation  that  is  self-evident,  while  the 
phenomena  embraced  in  the  second  objection  do  not 
oppose  but  bear  out  the  theory. 


1 66  The  Laws  of  Rivcrjiow. 

When  a  pilot  is  directing  his  boat  on  a  river  he 
is  looking  only  for  a  clear  path,  and  not  seeking  to 
ascertain  in  what  direction  each  piece  of  drift  is  float- 
ing. He  thus  fails  to  take  note  of  the  fact  that  the 
drift  is  spread  over  the  river,  not  because  it  is  mo\- 
ing  away  from  the  middle,  but  because  it  is  moving 
from  various  points  at  the  bank  obliquely  toward 
the  middle,  which  it  has  not  as  yet  had  time  to 
reach. 

To  realize  the  impossibility  of  the  first  movement 
of  drift  being  from  the  middle  to  the  margins  of 
streams  it  is  only  needed  to  reflect  that  in  low 
water  there  is  no  drift,  either  in  the  middle  or  any- 
where else  in  a  stream.  How,  then,  seeing  that  a 
river  must  rise  before  it  falls,  can  the  drift  move  first 
from  the  middle  to  the  banks  1  It  must  certainly 
be  borne  to  the  middle  before  it  can  be  carried  from 
it.  As  to  the  increased  difficulty  of  keeping  river 
craft  out  of  the  banks  in  rising  water,  that  fact  is 
perfectly  consistent  with  the  theory. 

In  a  straight  stream  the  two  spirals  lie  side  by 
side,  with  the  water  descending  in  the  middle.  But 
on  reaching  a  sharp  curve  the  inner  spiral  is  tilted 
over  the  outer  one,  and  thus  instead  of  two  spirals 
side  by  side,  the  stream  will  in  this  case  consist  of 
an  upper  and  an  under  spiral,  with  the  part  of  the 
water  constituting  the  current  sinking  down  at  the 
outer  bank  instead  of  the  middle. 

As  the  current  will  in  this  case  also  be  at  the 
outer  bank,  the  boat  crowding  toward  it  will  be 
simply  drifting  into  or  with  the  current,  in  accord- 
ance with  the  invariable  rule. 


The  Laws  of  River  flow.  id'J 

On  the  contrary,  at  the  bottom  the  movement 
of  sand  and  pebbles,  and  in  large,  rapid  streams 
of  rocks  of  considerable  size,  will  be  obliquely  out- 
ward. On  examining  the  bed  of  a  stream  of  ordi- 
nary dimensions  after  a  flood  it  will  be  observed 
that  the  coarser  gravel  occupies  the  middle  of  the 
stream  ;  on  the  outside  of  this  the  finer  gravel  will 
be  seen  ;  next  the  coarser  sand,  then  the  finer  sand, 
and  finally  a  deposit  of  mud  or  clay. 

These  deposits  will  often  be  found  in  the  form  of 
banklets  pointing  obliquely  upward  and  outward 
from  the  axis  of  the  stream,  and  thus  furnishing  both 
proof  and  illustration  of  the  fact  that  the  water  at 
the  bottom  had  flowed  obliquely  outward  and 
had  been  progressively  retarded.  Clearly,  only  the 
heavier  gravel  could  be  dropped  where  the  water 
was  swift,  and  after  that,  the  finer  particles  in  turn 
as  the  water  lost  its  speed. 

(  5  )  WHY  THE  POINT  OF  GREATEST  SPEED  IN  STREAMS 
IS  NOT  AT  THE  SURFACE. 

For  a  long  period,  doubtless  from  prehistoric 
times,  it  has  been  known  that  the  water  in  a  river 
or  other  stream  is  swifter  some  distance  beneath 
than  immediately  at  the  surface.  Men  who  were 
much  on  rivers  often  observed  that  if  a  skiff  was 
loosed  from  a  boat,  the  boat  drifted  ahead  of  it,  and 
if  an  oar  was  dropped  from  a  skiff,  it  lagged  behind. 
It  was  easy  and  early  perceived  that  the  cause  of 
this  was,  that  the  boat  reached  down  into  a  faster 
moving  stratum  of  water  than  that  which  carried  the 
skiff,  and  that  the  oar,  which  floated  lightest,  must 
be  moving  in  water  that  was  the  slowest. 


l68  The  Linvs  of  Rivcrjlotv. 

The  first  and  for  a  long  time  the  only  explana- 
tion of  this  phenomenon  was  that  the  mere  friction 
of  the  atmosphere  against  the  surface  of  the  water 
was  sufficient  to  cause  the  observed  retardation. 

This  was  the  view  with  which  Humphrey  and 
Abbott  closed  their  elaborate  investigations  made  in 
1846  in  connection  with  the  government  survey  of 
the  Mississippi.  They  found,  as  a  result  of  numer- 
ous measurements,  that  the  point  of  maximum  speed 
for  the  Mississippi  was  about  three  tenths  of  the 
depth  of  the  stream  beneath  the  surface.  Boileau 
found  the  maximum  velocity,  though  raised  a  little 
for  calm  weather,  still  at  a  considerable  distance 
below  the  surface,  even  when  the  wind  was  blowing 
down  stream  with  a  velocity  greater  than  that  of 
the  stream,  and  when  the  action  of  the  air  must 
have  been  an  accelerating  and  not  a  retarding  action. 
He  found  also,  as  did  Humphrey  and  Abbott,  that 
the  depth  of  the  maximum  speed  varied  with  the 
wind.  When  the  wind  blew  up  stream  the  depth 
was  greatest,  and  it  was  smallest  when  the  wind 
blew  down  stream. 

Prof.  James  Thomson  has  given  an  explanation 
of  the  diminution  of  the  velocity  at  and  near  the 
surface,  or,  rather,  of  the  increased  speed  beneath 
the  surface,  which  the  writer  of  the  article  on 
Hydrodynamics  in  the  Encyclopedia  Britannica 
pronounces  much  more  probable  than  the  theory 
of  friction  against  the  atmosphere. 

He  suggests  that  portions  of  water,  with  their 
velocity  diminished  from  retardation  by  the  sides 
and  bottom,  are  thrown  off  in  eddying  masses  and 


The  Lmvs  of  Rivcrflow.  169 

mingle  with  the  rest  of  the  stream.  These  eddying 
masses  modify  the  velocity  in  all  parts  of  the  stream, 
but  have  their  greatest  influence  at  the  surface. 
Reaching  the  free  surface,  they  spread  out  and 
remain  there,  mingling  with  the  water  at  that  level 
and  diminishing  the  velocity  which  would  otherwise 
be  found  there. 

This  rising  to  the  surface  of  the  water  that  has 
been  retarded  by  friction  against  the  sides  and  bot- 
tom of  streams  is  exactly  what  the  theory  of  the 
double  spiral  requires,  but  not  at  all  in  the  way  that 
Professor  Thomson  suggests. 

In  the  first  place,  neither  pressure  on  the  water 
constituting  the  lower  layers  of  the  stream  nor  its 
retardation  would  operate  to  carry  it  to  the  surface, 
either  in  eddying  masses  or  otherwise. 

In  the  second  place,  if  masses  of  water  should 
begin  to  rise  to  the  surface  after  or  because  their 
motion  had  been  retarded,  it  would  be  necessary  for 
them  to  make  their  way  through  the  more  rapidly 
moving  central  portions,  and  they  would  necessarily 
acquire  thereby  a  similar  motion. 

This  suggestion  of  Professor  Thomson  is,  how- 
ever, a  most  important  one,  as  coming  from  an 
acute  observer  and  profound  thinker,  pointing  out, 
as  it  does,  the  only  possible  source  of  retardation. 

It  only  needs  to  supplement  it  with  the  assump- 
tion of  a  systematic  method  by  which  the  retarded 
masses  regularly  and  continuously  spread  out  over 
the  surface. 

On  the  principle  of  the  double  spiral  the  ex- 
planation becomes  simple  and  easy.     The  strata  of 


I/O  The  Laxus  of  Riverflozv. 

water  in  contact  with  the  channel  walls  are  retarded 
by  friction  as  they  steadily  make  their  way  along 
the  bottom  toward  the  edges  of  the  stream,  this 
retardation  dimini^ing  from  below  upward.  It,  of 
course,  reaches  its  greatest  extent  at  the  margins  of 
the  stream,  and  the  water  there  rising,  spreads  out 
over  the  surface,  or  rather  rolls  over  toward  the 
middle  as  the  upper  half  of  the  stream. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed,  however,  that  each 
spiral  revolves  as  if  made  up  of  so  many  layers  like 
sheets  of  paper  that  steadily  keep  their  places.  All 
along  the  edges  of  streams,  and  in  fact  all  over  the 
bottom,  there  will  be  irregular  breaks.  The  water 
will  fly  off  in  diminutive  masses  here  and  there,  and 
near  the  edges  of  the  streams  these  will  be  seen 
boiling  up  through  the  free  surface.  A  beautiful 
illustration  of  this  may  at  any  time  be  observed  by 
looking  down  from  a  bridge  onto  the  surface  of  a 
swollen  stream. 

Probably  a  fourth  of  the  stream  on  either  side 
will  be  seen  boiling  up  irregularly  throughout  its 
whole  extent ;  within  this  will  be  seen  a  smooth  belt, 
while  at  the  middle  there  appears  a  narrow  band 
rough  with  waves  or  ripples. 

This  rough  surface  is  probably  due  to  slack  as 
well  as  to  greater  speed,  the  water  moving  in  from 
the  sides  faster  than  it  can  sink  down  in  the  middle. 
The  roughness  of  the  small  band  in  the  middle  of 
streams,  known  as  the  current,  can  not  result  from 
mere  speed  alone,  because  the  smooth  band  on  each 
side  of  the  current  may  at  the  same  time  be  moving 
very  much  faster  in  such  a  stream  than  the  rough- 
surfaced  current  of  the  smaller  streams. 


The  Laws  of  Riverflow.  171 

The  position  as  well  as  the  origin  of  the  locus  or 
transverse  line  of  greatest  speed  is  likewise  suscep- 
tible of  explanation  on  the  theory  of  the  double 
spiral. 

Ordinarily  the  most  rapid  part  of  a  stream,  as 
already  stated,  is  three  tenths  of  the  distance  from 
the  surface  to  the  bottom.  This  would  allow  one 
half  of  the  stream  to  be  above  and  the  other  half 
beneath  the  swiftest  part,  for  while  the  upper  half  is 
the  wider  and  the  more  rapid,  the  lower  half,  though 
the  slower,  is  the  deeper.  When  the  wind  blows 
up  stream,  the  swiftest  point  goes  deeper ;  for  in 
that  case  the  upper  part  being  made  to  move  more 
slowly,  it  must  have  a  larger  volume  in  order  to  form 
half  of  the  movement.  On  the  other  hand,  when 
the  wind  blows  down  stream,  the  upper  half  is  more 
swift,  and  does  not  need  a  depth  of  three  tenths  in 
order  to  embrace  half  of  the  movement  of  the  water 
in  the  stream,  and  therefore  the  maximum  of  speed 
rises. 

The  controlling  condition  obviously  is  that  the 
same  quantity  of  water  must  move  out  below  the 
maximum  line  that  moves  inward  above  it. 

Reflection  will  show,  also,  that  the  half  of  the 
river  that  is  moving  in  above,  and  the  half  which  is 
moving  out  below,  must  have  uniform  velocities  at 
all  their  points  of  contact.  Thus  the  upper  half  is 
continuously  gaining  in  speed  as  it  approaches  the 
middle,  the  highest  speed  of  both  being  at  this  com- 
mon turning  point  in  the  middle.  Returning  to  the 
bank,  then,  the  under  half,  which  was  the  upper  as 
it  went  in,  will  lose  speed  at  exactly  the  same  rate 


\J2  The  Laxvs  of  River jiozv. 

it  gained  it  on  going  in,  and  so  from  the  top  (juite 
to  the  bottom  there  will  be  at  all  points  a  relative 
equality,  or  rather  a  regular  gradation  of  speed. 

(6)    WHY    STREAMS    ARE   HIGHER    IN    THE    MIDDLE 
THAN    AT  THE    MARGINS. 

The  surface  of  streams  has  been  described  as 
trough-shaped  at  the  time  of  the  beginning  of  the 
inward  fiow  of  water  at  the  stream  surface.  Yet, 
as  an  actual  fact,  the  stream  surface  probably  never 
presents  this  form  unless  it  may  be  just  below  dams 
or  cataracts.  On  the  contrary,  the  middle  is  prob- 
ably always  as  high  as  the  margins,  and  in  rapid 
streams  really  higher. 

At  the  Yukon  rapids  the  middle  of  the  river  is 
said  to  be  six  feet  higher  than  the  edges.  This  fact 
of  the  elevation  of  the  middle  of  rivers  has  been 
long  observed,  and  two  different  hypotheses  have 
been  offered  in  explanation  :  one  by  Sir  Isaac  New- 
ton and  the  other  by  Major  Allan  Cunningham,  R. 
E.  of  the  English  Army  in  India. 

The  explanation  offered  by  Major  Cunningham 
is  that  pressure  being  diminished  by  speed,  and  the 
speed  of  those  parts  of  a  stream  forming  the  cur- 
rent being  the  greatest,  the  water  in  the  line  of  the 
current  becomes  elevated. 

This  notion  is  probably  derived  from  the  move- 
ment of  gases  through  pipes  or  tubes,  and  most 
likely  does  not  in  the  least  apply  to  the  movement 
of  water  in  open  channels.  When  gases  are  forced 
through  pipes,  they  of  course  get  relief  from  pres- 
sure by  escaping  at   the  distal   end  with   increased 


The  Lazvs  of  River Jiozv.  173 

speed,  but  it  is  not  easy  to  see  how  this  can  apply 
to  an  incompressible  liquid  like  water  moving  in  an 
open  channel. 

If  the  rising  up  of  the  water  is  a  function  of  its 
speed  depending  on  diminished  pressure  in  these 
cases,  then  it  is  hard  to  see  how  it  is  that  the  water 
of  very  swift  streams,  such  as  that  of  the  Yukon 
rapids,  does  not  leave  its  bed  and  fly  off  into  the  air. 

The  explanation  of  Sir  Isaac  Nev^^on  is  not  mate- 
rially different.  He  held  that  friction  at  the  margins 
of  streams  pulls  down  the  water,  while  the  middle, 
being  less  subject  to  friction,  obeys  its  momentum 
and  remains  elevated  in  the  form  of  a  ridge. 

To  this  there  are  many  objections.  In  the  first 
place,  no  such  momentum  could  pertain  to  water  as 
would  be  required  to  hold  the  middle  of  a  stream 
up  in  this  way.  Let  us  suppose  that  a  stream,  with 
a  fall  of  four  feet  to  the  mile,  moves  six  miles  an 
hour  and  has  the  middle  elevated  six  inches.  This 
means  that  the  water  of  the  ridge  would  fall  four 
feet  in  an  hour,  an  almost  level  projectory  for  a  dis- 
tance of  six  miles  and  lasting  one  hour  ;  for  we  must 
assume,  according  to  Newton's  theory,  that  the  mid- 
dle stays  up  by  its  momentum.  Now,  the  most  pow- 
erful cannon  known  does  not  have  a  projectory  so 
nearly  level  for  five  seconds.  Again,  say  a  stream 
moves  so  rapidly  that  after  falhng  over  a  dam  and 
losing  its  ridge,  at  the  end  of  a  mile  it  has  regained 
it,  and  say  that  its  ridge  is  four  inches  in  height. 
At  two  miles  it  ought  to  be  eight  inches,  at  four  it 
should  be  sixteen,  and  so  on  until  the  stream  should 
stand  on  edge  like  a  board. 


174  The  Lazvs  of  Riverjlow. 

Still  another  objection  is  the  conclusion  that  if 
the  friction  of  the  banks  pulls  down  the  edges  of  the 
stream,  the  friction  at  the  bottom  of  the  bed  ought 
also  to  pull  down  the  bottom  of  the  stream  in  the 
middle.  But  as  the  top  remains  in  the  air  on  ac- 
count of  its  momentum,  this  should  result  in  mak- 
ing all  rapid  streams  hollow  in  their  center. 

When  the  water  that  forms  the  sides  of  the 
trough  which  every  stream  is  resolved  into  by  the 
momentum  of  the  outward  undercurrent  begins  at 
any  point  its  flow  obliquely  back  to  the  middle,  the 
result  is  the  filling  up  of  the  part  of  the  trough  just 
below.  As  the  water  approaches  the  middle  on 
either  side,  the  friction  it  has  to  overcome  grows 
less  and  less  and  its  speed  greater  and  greater,  until 
it  reaches  the  water  coming  from  the  opposite  side. 

The  tendency  of  the  action  of  gravity  of  course 
would  be  to  reduce  the  surface  to  a  level,  but  the 
momentum  of  the  water  is  sufficient  to  overbalance 
the  indirect  influence  of  gravitation  and  raise  the 
middle  of  the  stream  above  the  general  level. 

The  concavity  of  the  stream  surface  at  the  cross- 
section  will,  therefore,  not  only  be  filled  up  by  the 
water  which  has  flowed  obliquely  inward  from  the 
banks  above,  but  the  middle  will  even  be  raised  by 
it  into  a  ridge. 

Thus  every  stream  presents  the  paradox  of  a  sur- 
face that  is  at  the  same  time  a  trough  and  a  ridge  ; 
potentially  a  trough  and  actually  a  ridge.  Further- 
more, if  a  river  could  be  made  to  cease  its  motion 
and  remain  still  until  its  surface  became  level,  and 
then  allowed  to  resume  its  wonted  motion,  the  water 


TJic  Lmvs  of  Rivcj'flozu 


175 


of  the  edges  would  at  once  rise,  and  the  surface 
would  become  an  actual  trough.  Ordinarily,  how- 
ever, only  the  ridge  is  actual  on  the  transverse  meas- 
urement. But  if  across  the  surface  of  a  stream  we 
measure  a  curve  with  the  convexity  downward  in  the 
direction  of  the  flow,  we  will  invaribly  have  an  actual 
trough.  That  is,  while  the  middle  at  any  point  on 
transverse  section  may  be  higher  than  the  margins, 
the  particles  forming  the  raised  middle  have  not 
flowed  there  from  a  lower  level.  On  the  contrary, 
each  particle  of  the  water  forming  the  ridge  will  be 
found  on  a  lower  level  than  it  occupied  when  it  left 
the  bank  above.      No  particle  has  flowed  up  hill. 


Fig.  2. 

SECTION    OF    DELTA    KIVER    BED. 


(7)  WHY  DELTA  STREAMS  THROW  UP  NATURAL 
LEVEES. 

All  rivers  reaching  the  sea  through  deltas  made 
of  deposits  of  their  own  silt  have  their  banks  ele- 
vated so  that  they  traverse  channels  apparently 
scooped  out  of  the  crest  of  a  low  ridge. 

A  cross-section  of  a  delta  river  will  show  that  the 
highest  part  of  the  land  is  that  immediately  next  to 
the  river,  while  the  surface  on  each  side  gradually 
slopes  outward  in  both  directions  from  the  main 
channel.  The  only  arable  lands  along  the  lower 
parts  of  many  rivers  consist  of  the  elevations  formed 


176  The  Laws  of  River flotv. 

of  silt  which  has  been  cast  out  upon  the  banks  either 
by  the  main  rivers  or  the  innumerable  outlets  they 
have  had  from  time  to  time  as  they  pushed  their 
way  farther  and  farther  into  the  sea.  As  already 
pointed  out,  the  regimen  of  the  lower  sections  of  all 
rivers  is  controlled  by  the  sea. 

During  floods  the  transverse  currents  at  the  bot- 
tom of  a  river  throw  the  silt  out  over  the  banks, 
where,  on  account  of  the  slowing  of  the  flow,  it  is 
deposited.  Now,  the  part  of  the  bank  nearest  the 
river  always  consists  of  the  coarsest  particles  of 
which  the  silt  is  composed.  Outside  of  this  coarse 
matter  finer  silt  is  deposited,  and  still  farther  on  the 
very  finest  particles,  often  so  fine,  indeed,  that  they 
are  easily  spread  out,  covering  large  areas  and  form- 
ing extensive  plateaus  almost  as  level  as  the  sea. 

Year  by  year  and  century  by  century  the  river 
gains  in  length  by  deposit  of  silt  in  the  sea  near  its 
mouth,  and  with  each  increase  in  length  a  higher 
level  is  required  for  the  stream  bed  all  along  its 
course,  higher  banks  are  needed  to  restrain  over- 
flow, and  these  grow  by  accretions  of  upheaved  and 
ejected  silt. 

(8)    WHY    DELTA  RIVERS    HAVE    MULTIPLE   MOUTHS. 

Rivers  that  have  formed  deltas  at  their  mouths 
have  without  exception  multiple  outlets.  The  num- 
ber of  these  outlets  runs  sometimes  into  hundreds, 
and,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Ganges,  possibly  even 
into  thousands. 

When  a  river  reaches  the  sea  the  speed  of  its 
water  is  arrested  by  reason  of  its  spreading  out  over 


The  Laws  of  Riverflmv.  177 

the  heavier  salt  water,  and  a  deposit  of  silt  will  take 
place,  forming  a  bar  at  the  point  of  entrance. 

The  spiral,  as  already  explained,  requires  that 
there  shall  be  a  certain  proportion  between  the 
width  of  the  flow  and  the  depth.  When  the  width 
is  too  great  the  stream  breaks  up  into  a  number  of 
spirals,  each  one  of  them  with  its  fellow  beginning 
to  cut  out  a  new  channel.  Now,  during  the  high 
water  the  stream  might  maintain  a  single  double 
spiral  over  the  bar,  but  as  the  water  falls  it  becomes 
too  shallow  to  return  to  the  line  of  the  current  when 
it  goes  out,  and  it  therefore  breaks  up  into  two  or 
more  or  even  many  double  spirals,  each  one  of 
which  begins  to  cut  a  channel  that  may  in  time  be- 
come a  new  outlet.  Succeeding  floods  will  fail  to 
entirely  obliterate  these  notches  in  the  bar,  while 
each  subsequent  season  of  low  water  and  the  de- 
posits of  successive  floods  will  lengthen  them  out 
into  the  sea. 

x\s  the  incline  of  each  one  of  these  outlets  must 
be  extremely  small,  from  the  fact  that  this  channel 
formation  first  began  at  sea  level,  the  current  will  be 
slow,  and  it  will  become  slower  in  proportion  as  the 
length  of  the  outlet  becomes  greater.  In  the  course 
of  time  the  current  in  a  part  of  these  outlets  be- 
comes too  slow  to  wash  out  the  silt  which  is  thrown 
into  their  channels  at  the  source  by  the  transverse 
undercurrent  of  the  parent  stream  ;  whereupon  such 
outlets  are  filled  up  with  silt  at  this  point,  and 
thus  shut  off  from  the  main  channel.  In  this  way 
originate  the  numerous  blind  bayous  that  are  found 
so  abundantly  in  all  deltas. 


178  The  Lazvs  of  Riverflow. 

In  the  mean  time,  as  the  sea  is  caused  to  recede 
by  reason  of  the  deposit  of  silt,  the  main  stream 
will  be  less  interfered  with  in  its  spiral  action.  By 
the  elevation  of  its  bed,  also,  it  will  be  still  further 
removed  from  interference  by  the  sea,  so  that  in 
the  course  of  time  it  will  select  that  one  of  its 
mouths  which  proves  to  be  the  line  of  least  resist- 
ance, and,  closing  up  the  rest  where  they  break  off 
from  it,  will  continue  to  advance  as  one  body  further 
on  through  the  delta. 

(9)    WHY      WATER      FLOWING      IN      STEEP      CHANNELS 

DOES    NOT    INCREASE    IN    SPEED   AS    DO    SOLID 

BODIES    DESCENDING    WITH    THE 

SAME    INCLINE. 

When  a  solid  body  is  caused  to  fall  through 
space  it  increases  in  speed  indefinitely,  and  the  dis- 
tance it  will  fall  in  any  given  time  is  the  distance 
it  will  fall  in  one  second  multiplied  by  the  square  of 
the  number  of  seconds  it  is  falling.  If  permitted  to 
slide  down  an  inclined  trough  there  might  be  some 
lessening  of  acceleration,  but  the  rule  would  fairly 
well  apply  to  the  conditions  if  the  opposing  surfaces 
were  uniformly  smooth.  With  water,  however,  it  is 
far  different  ;  for  in  a  very  short  time  it  reaches  its 
highest  attainable  speed. 

EXPERIMENTS    OF    NAPOLEON's    ENGINEERS. 

When  Napoleon,  desirous  of  avoiding  interrup- 
tion at  the  hands  of  the  English,  sought  to  have 
ships  constructed  in  Lake  Constance,  his  engineers 
built  a    flume    of    logs   framed    together,    in   which 


The  Laws  of  River  flow.  179 

to  slide  the  timbers  from  the  top  of  Mt.  Pilatus  down 
into  the  lake,  a  distance  of  some  six  miles. 

At  first  they  attempted  to  slide  the  timbers  down 
the  flume  without  water.  So  great,  however,  was 
the  speed  acquired  by  the  timbers  in  their  descent, 
that  such  heat  was  generated  as  threatened  to  speed- 
ily destroy  the  flume,  while  the  timbers  themselves 
were  materially  damaged  by  it.  They  thereupon 
directed  into  the  flume  a  small  stream  of  water 
which  they  found  near  its  head.  When,  after  this, 
the  logs  were  let  slide,  they  went  down  with  such 
speed  that  when  they  reached  the  lake  they  plunged 
through  many  feet  of  water  with  sufficient  force 
often  to  stick  in  the  mud  beneath.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  stream  of  water  increased  in  speed  only 
for  a  few  hundred  feet,  and  then  continued  on  to 
the  lake  without  further  acceleration.  This  pecul- 
iarity of  motion  which  is  found  in  all  streams  is 
known  as  kinetic  equilibrium,  and  as  to  them  has 
never  yet  been  explained.  On  the  principle  of  the 
double  spiral,  however,  it  admits  of  easy  and  satis- 
factory explanation. 

HELIX    RISES    WITH    THE    SPEED. 

Since  the  transverse  current  in  a  stream  depends 
altogether  upon  the  friction  against  its  channel  wall, 
it  will  of  course  increase  its  angle  to  the  stream  axis 
in  proportion  to  the  shallowness  of  the  water  and 
the  rapidity  of  the  flow  ;  that  is,  the  helix  of  the 
spiral  rises  as  the  speed  of  the  stream  increases. 

In  a  deep,  slow-moving  stream  the  spiral  flow  or 
helix  will  be  very  oblique,  but  in  a  swift  stream  it 


1 80  The  Lazvs  of  Rivei^flcn^K 

will   be   correspondingly  more   transverse   and   at  a 
greater  angle  to  the  stream  axis. 

It  results,  therefore,  that  each  particle  of  water 
in  a  mountain  torrent  flows  a  much  greater  distance 
in  accomplishing  a  mile  of  progress  in  its  channel 
than  a  like  particle  in  a  deep,  slow-moving  stream. 
The  mountain  stream  dissipates  the  energy  it  gains 
by  its  fall  in  simply  beating  transversely  against  its 
banks.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  the  speed  of  streams 
has  not  hitherto  been  found  to  bear  any  constant 
relation  to  the  incline  of  their  channels.  Thus  the 
Rhone  and  the  Amazon,  where  they  flow  through 
level  lands,  and  have  seemingly  no  fall,  are  nearly 
as  rapid  as  the  swiftest  mountain  torrent. 

DETERMINATION    OF    THE    SIZE    OF    CHANNELS. 

It  is  the  law  governing  the  relation  of  width  to 
depth  that  determines  for  each  particular  stream 
the  size  of  its  channel.  Streams  flowing  from 
springs  always  carve  out  channels  of  appropriate 
dimensions  and  never  overflow  their  banks ;  and 
the  same  may  be  said  of  all  streams  kept  up  by  a 
steady  flow  of  water. 

If  the  Amazon,  at  its  highest  flood,  could  be 
turned  into  the  Mississippi  and  the  stream  thus 
formed  be  kept  at  an  even  height,  in  the  course 
of  time  it  would  regulate  its  channel  and  remain 
within  its  banks.  All  rivers  would  regulate  their 
channels  in  the  course  of  time,  even  in  the  sea- 
son of  floods,  except  for  the  continual  lengthening 
they  receive  at  their  mouths  and  the  excess  of 
coarse  detritus  carried  into  their  channels  during 
floods. 


The  Laivs  of  Riverjiozv.  i8l 

So  long  as  additions  to  the  length  of  rivers 
are  made  by  deposits  of  silt  at  their  mouths,  the 
banks  along  their  course  above,  as  already  indi- 
cated, must  be  raised  in  order  to  prevent  over- 
flow. Likewise,  if  detritus,  such  as  gravel  and 
stones,  be  carried  into  rivers  at  flood  seasons 
more  rapidly  than  it  can  be  ground  up  by  attri- 
tion and  carried  away,  the  deepening  of  channels 
will  be  retarded  or  arrested. 

BODIES    OF    THE    DROWNED    DRIFT    TO    THE    SHORE. 

The  situation  in  which  the  bodies  of  persons 
drowned  in  rivers  are  found  also  bears  evidence 
to  an  outward  movement  of  the  water  at  the  bot- 
tom of  streams.  Such  bodies,  no  matter  in  what 
part  of  the  river  the  drowning  may  have  occurred, 
are  found  almost  invariably  at  the  banks.  If  an 
outward  underflow  is  conceded,  this  is  readily  ex- 
plained. When  a  person  is  drowned,  the  body, 
being  of  slightly  greater  specific  gravity  than 
water,  sinks  to  the  bottom.  After  an  uncertain 
lapse  of  time  decomposition  sets  in  and  the  body 
is  made  specifically  lighter  by  the  gases  generated, 
and  when  it  reaches  the  exact  specific  weight  of 
the  water  it  begins  to  drift.  Usually  it  retains 
this  exact  specific  weight  long  enough  to  reach 
the  shore,  where  it  is  held  by  the  attraction  of  the 
bank  until  discovered. 

RISING    OF    STREAMS    BELOW    DAMS. 

To  the  orderly  movement  of  water  in  channels  as 
herein  set  forth  is  due  in  great  measure  the  capacity 


1 82  The  Lazvs  of  Riverflow. 

of  streams  to  carry  large  quantities  of  water  in  pro- 
portion to  the  size  of  their  channels,  and  also  the 
more  rapid  rise  of  streams  below  than  above  falls. 
Every  one  has  remarked  the  much  greater  rapidity 
with  which  streams  during  floods  rise  below  than 
above  obstructions.  In  such  cases  the  breaking  up 
of  the  double  spiral  confuses  and  checks  the  water 
below  the  obstruction,  while  that  above  moves  on 
undisturbed. 

As  an  instance  of  this  action  may  be  cited  the 
fact  that  in  the  Ohio  River  at  Louisville  the  fall  of 
the  bed  from  First  to  Thirtieth  Street,  a  distance  of 
about  three  miles,  is  at  the  lowest  stage  27  feet. 
At  a  2.5  foot  stage  the  fall  is  26.6  feet ;  at  a  7. 5  foot 
stage  the  fall  is  21,3  feet ;  while  at  a  46.7  foot  stage 
the  fall  is  only  1.6  feet  within  the  limits  given. 
Owing  to  the  breaking  up  in  this,  as  in  all  similar 
cases,  of  the  orderly  double  spiral  and  the  conse- 
quent confusion,  the  fall  is  stretched  out  over  a  long 
extent  of  river. 

It  is  true  the  greater  facility  of  discharge  just 
above  the  falls  has  something  to  do  with  the  results, 
but  a  comparison  of  the  rise  at  the  head  of  the  falls 
with  that  at  points  unaffected  will  prove  that  the 
difference  is  mainly  due  to  the  cause  ascribed. 

In  1883  at  Davis  Bend,  twenty  miles  above  New 
Orleans,  a  crevasse  occurred,  permitting  about  one 
third  of  the  water  in  the  Mississippi  River  to  escape 
across  the  country  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  The  dis- 
tance to  the  sea  level  at  this  point  is,  on  an  average, 
about  twenty  miles,  with  a  total  fall  of  about  nine 
feet.      Now,  such  was  the  hindrance  to  the  flow  of 


The  Laws  of  Rivcrflow. 


183 


water,  due  to  the  want  of  a  rightly  proportioned 
channel,  that  the  water  spread  out  over  a  territory 
extending  up  and  down  the  river  about  eighty  miles 
in  length.  At  places  the  water  on  the  slope  running 
back  to  the  Gulf  was  from  ten  to  twelve  feet  deep, 
and  almost  as  still  as  a  lake. 

Some  of  the  New  Orleans  papers  suggested  that 
the  grass  of  the  swamps  and  the  water  plants  must 
have  dammed  up  the  water,  so  much  was  it  backed 
up  and  so  slow  its  movement.  And  yet  the  Missis- 
sippi River,  with  its  orderly  current,  carried  the 
remaining  two  thirds  of  the  water  to  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico,  a  distance  of  one  hundred  and  twenty-seven 
miles,  at  a  rate  of  five  miles  an  hour,  and  with  a 
normal  fall  of  less  than  two  inches  to  the  mile. 


Fig.  3. 


DEDUCTIVE    EVIDENCE. 

With  the  foregoing  presentation  of  the  argument 
reached  by  induction,  and  before  entering  into  a 
detail  of  direct  experiments  bearing  on  the  question, 
some  further  support  may  be  added,  derived  from 
evidence  based  on  deduction. 

Let  us,  then,  conceive  a  stream  to  consist  of  per- 
pendicular columns  of  molecules  (Fig.  3),   and  that 


1 84 


The  Laws  of  Riverflotv. 


a  row  of  these  columns  extending  longitudinally 
in  the  axis  of  the  stream,  reaching  from  the 
bottom  to  the  surface,  is  taken  for  observation. 
Now,  since  the  lower  end  of  all  these  columns  is 
known  to  be  retarded,  and  also  more  retarded  than 
the  top,  it  follows  that  in  time  they  will  all  come  to 
lean  down  the  stream,  and  in  so  doing  will  not  be 
able  to  reach  the  surface  at  a  level  which  the  stream 
is  required  to  maintain  in  order  to  enable  it  to  carry 
all  the  water  that  it  must  convey. 

At  a,  for  instance,  the  top  of  the  column  will 
reach  to  the  surface  at  i,  at  <5  it  can  reach  only  to  2, 
at  c  it  will  be  down  to  3  ;  and  by  the  time  the  column 
arrives  at  d  it  will,  like  all  the  rest  in  turn,  at  4  lie  flat 
on  the  bottom. 


Fig.  4. 

Thus,  unless  by  some  mechanism  as  yet  unsug- 
gested  the  columns  can  receive  additions  to  their 
length,  enabling  them  to  reach  the  surface  at  its 
required  level,  the  stream  must  eventually  fail  and 
disappear  from  very  flatness. 

On  the  other  hand,  let  us  conceive  the  stream  to 
be  formed  of  perpendicular  columns  of  molecules,  as 
before,  and  take  a  row  of  columns  in  cross  section, 
extending  from  the  bottom  to  the  surface. 


The  Laius  of  River  flow.  185 

Now,  as  the  stream  flows  on  the  column  of  parti- 
cles next  the  bank  will  be  retarded,  and  that  pro- 
gressively, and  the  result  must  be  that  it  will  event- 
ually come  to  an  absolute  standstill.  When  the 
motion  of  the  first  has  been  arrested,  the  next  within 
must  have  the  same  experience,  and  so  on  until  the 
motion  of  all  has  been  arrested,  and  the  stream  fails 
and  disappears  from  very  narrowness.  If,  however, 
a  mechanism  is  provided  for  lengthening  out  the 
columns  in  the  first  example,  or  of  substituting  more 
swiftly  moving  ones  in  the  second,  the  stream  may 
continue  on  without  diminution  in  volume. 

THE    LESSON    OF    EXPERIMENTS. 

When  this  theory  has  been  presented  from  time 
to  time  to  men  from  whom  one  might  have  ex- 
pected a  helpful  judgment,  a  quite  uniform  reply 
has  been,  "Prove  it  by  experiments."  And  yet 
when  one  considers  how  many  volumes  of  reports 
of  experiments  have  been  given  out  which  were 
made  under  most  favorable  circumstances,  and 
what  an  infinitely  greater  number  have  been  made 
and  have  not  been  published,  and  all  without  even 
approaching  a  settlement  of  the  question,  it  recon- 
ciles one  to  the  contemptuous  replies  one  often  gets 
from  men  enviably  favored  in  their  positions  for 
forming  an  opinion  on  this  question.  It  does,  in- 
deed, seem  like  wanton  presumption  to  undertake 
to  thresh  over  the  old  straw  and  venture  to  repeat 
test  experiments  on  this  line.  So,  before  I  give  re- 
sults of  my  own  experiments  I  may  therefore  be 
allowed  to  fortify  my  position  by  citing  experiments 


1 86  The  Laws  of  Riverfiow. 

made  by  two  eminent  men  already  mentioned,  viz.  ^ 
Professor  James  Thomson,  the  brother  of  Lord  Kel- 
vin, and  Major  Allan  Cunningham. 

EXPERIMENTS    OF    PROFESSOR    THOMSON. 

In  the  Transactions  of  the  British  Association  for 
the  Advancement  of  Science,  held  in  Glasgow  in 
1876,  we  find  the  following  on  page  31,  it  being  a 
part  of  a  continued  report  of  Professor  Thomson  on 
fluids:  "The  chief  view,"  says  the  report,  "now 
experimentally  proved,  was  that  the  water  in  turn- 
ing the  bend  exerts  centrifugal  force,  but  that  a  thin 
lamina  of  the  water  at  the  bottom  or  in  close  prox- 
imity to  the  bed  of  the  river  is  retarded  by  friction 
at  the  river  bed,  and  so  exerts  less  centrifugal  force 
than  do  like  portions  of  the  great  body  of  water 
flowing  over  it  in  less  close  proximity  to  the  river 
bed.  Consequently  the  bottoin  layer  flows  inward 
obliquely  across  the  channel  toward  the  inner  bank 
and  rises  up  in  a  retarded  condition  between  the 
inner  bank  and  the  rapidly  flowing  water  and  pro- 
tects the  inner  bank  from  the  scour,  and  brings  with 
it  sand  and  other  detritus  from  the  bottom,  which  it 
deposits  along  the  river  bank.  The  apparatus 
showed  a  small  river  about  eight  inches  wide  and  an 
inch  deep,  flowing  around  a  bend  and  exhibiting 
very  completely  the  phenomena  which  had  been 
anticipated." 

MAJOR  Cunningham's  conclusion. 

And  this  from  Nature  (Vol.  XXV,  page  i),  in  a 
review  by  the    editor   of    a   two-volume    report    by 


The  Laws  of  River  flow.  187 

Major  Cunningham,  giving  the  result  of  many  thou- 
sands of  experiments  made  by  him  on  the  Ganges 
canal  in  India  :  ' '  His  own  float  observations  show 
that  near  the  edge  of  a  stream  there  is  a  persistent 
flow  of  the  zvater  at  and  near  the  surface  from  the 
edge  toward  the  center.''  And,  again,  "The  motion 
of  water  at  each  point  varies  in  magnitude  and 
direction  from  instant  to  instant." 

Now,  a  little  amendment  which  can  hardly  be 
with  reason  objected  to,  and  these  two  experiments 
put  together,  prove  the  contention  of  this  essay. 
In  the  first  place,  the  outward  movement  at  the 
bottom  on  the  inside  of  the  bend  of  a  stream,  as 
exhibited  by  Prof.  Thomson,  is  the  one  most  easily 
obtained  in  experiments. 

As  stated  by  him,  the  centrifugal  force  on  the 
outside  of  bends  carries  the  current  to  the  outer 
bank.  The  outgoing  undercurrent,  then,  is  made  to 
travel  twice  as  far  as  it  must  do  in  a  straight  stream, 
and  both  its  transverse  direction  and  its  retardation 
become  very  marked  and  distinct,  and,  consequently, 
easy  to  measure.  But  these  outward  undercurrents 
existed  on  both  sides  of  the  stream  before  this  bend- 
ing took  place,  only  in  a  less  degree.  We  will 
assume,  then,  that  Professor  Thomson's  experiment 
has  established  the  outward  movement  at  the  bottom. 

Major  Cunningham,  as  we  have  seen,  as  a  result 
of  many  thousands  of  hydraulic  experiments  made 
on  the  Ganges  canal  in  India  under  government 
supervision,  and  reported  in  his  official  capacity, 
declares  that,  ' '  near  the  edge  of  a  stream  there  is  a 
persistent  flow  of  water  at  and  near  the  surface  from 
the  edges  toward  the  center." 


1 88  The  Laws  of  Riverflow. 

Now,  if  we  reflect  that,  owing  to  the  much  greater 
speed  of  the  water  as  it  nears  the  center,  its  longi- 
tudinal motion  greatly  increases  in  proportion  to  its 
transverse  motion,  we  can  easily  see  how  it  could 
happen  that  the  transverse  motion  was  more  likely 
to  be  and  was  overlooked  by  Major  Cunningham. 
We  then  have  Professor  Thomson's  experiments, 
made  in  the  presence  of  the  British  Association  for 
the  Advancement  of  Science,  establishing  the  fact 
of  the  outer  undercurrent  and  Major  Cunningham's 
official  report  affirming  the  inward  flow  from  both 
sides,  at  and  near  the  surface.  With  inward  flow 
conceded  at  the  top,  and  outward  flow  at  the  bot- 
tom, the  other  two  necessarily  follow 

My  own  experiments  do  little  more  than  simply 
bear  out  the  others  mentioned.  As  for  the  inward 
flow  of  the  surface  water,  by  throwing  sticks  into 
natural  streams  mainly,  but  often  in  artificial  canals, 
I  have  observed  it  times  without  number  through 
experiments  purposely  repeated  for  more  than 
twenty  years. 

The  outward  flow  at  the  bottom  is  not  so  easy 
to  demonstrate  experimentally.  That  tendency  of 
the  motion  of  water  at  each  point  to  vary  in  magni- 
tude and  direction  from  instant  to  instant,  as  de- 
scribed by  Major  Cunningham,  is  only  too  much  in 
evidence. 

In  such  artificial  canals  as  are  ordinarily  used  for 
experiment,  no  satisfactory  result  has  been  obtained 
by  me  from  allowing  free  material  to  be  carried 
along  by  the  water.  The  general  trend  of  the 
water's  motion  may,   however,   be  obtained  by  at- 


The  Laivs  of  Rivcrflozu.  189 

taching  substances  of  near  the  specific  gravity  of  the 
water  to  long  cords  of  fine  thread,  and  then  fasten- 
ing these  so  that  they  will  occupy  the  middle  of  the 
canals  or  sides,  as  one  may  choose.  The  total  result 
of  such  experiments  has  been  such  as  to  bear  out 
the  conclusions  drawn  from  so  many  other  sources. 

Many  of  the  foregoing  explanations  have  been 
based  upon  the  assumption  of  the  existence  of 
channels.  But  it  is  evident  that  if  the  principles 
here  presented  are  true  —  if  the  true  theory  of 
streams  has  been  discovered — no  channel  formation 
could  have  taken  place  except  in  the  way  described. 

In  that  case,  the  low  lands  of  the  earth  must  all 
have  become  a  dreary  expanse  of  seething,  poison- 
ous swamp  and  marsh,  and  the  whole  surface  of 
the  earth  must  have  retained  nearly  the  form  with 
which  it  rose  from  the  sea. 

The  fact  that  water  becomes  lighter  as  it  freezes, 
and  that  winter  covers  the  rivers  with  ice  instead  of 
filling  up  and  obliterating  their  channels,  has  been 
considered  a  matter  so  vital  in  its  bearing  on  human 
welfare  that  it  has  been  widely  advanced  as  an  evi- 
dence of  special  providential  care  on  the  part  of  the 
Creator.  Yet  even  without  this  provision  we  should 
still  have  left  to  us,  undisturbed  by  winter's  cold,  all 
the  rivers  of  the  tropics  and  the  adjacent  parts  of  the 
temperate  zones. 

ESSENTIAL    TO    EXISTENCE    OF    HUMAN    LIFE. 

But  in  the  absence  of  the  principle  we  are  con- 
sidering, the  maintenance  of  human  life  on  earth 
had  been  scarcely  possible,  and  its  evolution  abso- 


190  The  Laws  of  Riverflow. 

lutely  so.  Only  in  a  few  elevated  localities  could 
any  dwelling-place  for  human  beings  have  been 
found,  and  that  necessarily  of  the  most  inhospitable 
character. 

There  could  have  been  none  of  the  pleasing 
alternation  of  hill  and  valley,  of  swell  and  swale,  of 
champlain  and  canyon,  of  rolling  prairie  and  fluted 
mountain  slope  that  in  endless  variety  have  endowed 
the  earth  with  so  much  of  charm  and  beauty. 

First,  the  tablelands  had  to  be  notched  by  the 
channels  of  streams  whose  existence  was  rendered 
possible  only  by  the  concentration  of  the  force  of  the 
water's  flow,  and  then  the  ceaseless  chiseling  of  wind 
and  rain,  and  heat  and  cold,  shaped  the  rugged 
banks  into  graceful  slopes  and  embellished  the 
mountain  sides  with  a  marvelous  wealth  of  sculpt- 
ured architecture.  Even  the  utility  and  attractive- 
ness of  the  ocean  are  immeasurably  enhanced  by 
this  power  of  channel  forming  possessed  by  flowing 
water  ;  for  the  harbors  whose  protecting  quiet  has 
invited  the  great  cities  to  gather  about  their  shores 
and  share  the  fruits  of  commerce  and  travel  have 
nearly  all  been  constituted  by  the  subsidence  of  areas 
of  land  into  which  valleys  and  canyons  had  been 
carved  by  the  rivers.  In  view,  then,  of  the  beauty 
and  grandeur  of  rivers  and  their  intimate  relation- 
ship with  whatever  in  the  history  and  experience  of 
man  he  most  may  contemplate  with  satisfaction  and 
pride,  it  must  be  owned  there  comes  a  lively  pleas- 
ure with  the  hope  that  hereafter,  as  long  as  men 
shall  find  delight  in  the  varied  landscape,  as  long  as 
they  shall  revel  in  life  and  health,  as  long  as  glad 


The  Lazvs  of  River  flow.  191 

eyes  shall  be  mirrored  in  glad  waters,  a  new  thought 
will  have  been  awakened  in  every  dreamy,  azure 
depth,  and  a  new  note  in  the  mellow  music  of  every 
rippling,  murmuring  brook. 

GLACIERS    AND    AIR-STREAMS. 

The  principles  of  the  double  spiral  apply  not 
only  to  the  motion  of  water,  but  to  that  of  all  liquids 
and  all  gases,  and  to  that  of  all  viscous  substances  as 
well,  when  they  are  moving  in  channels.  In  the 
movements  of  glaciers  the  appearances,  owing  to  the 
peculiar  conditions,  are  to  a  large  extent  misleading, 
and  experimental  proof  is  not  so  easy  to  obtain  as  in 
the  flowing  of  water.  When  a  stream  of  water  has 
developed  into  the  double  spiral,  the  small  viscosity 
of  the  fluid  allows  the  momentum  of  the  parts  at 
the  surface  to  have  nearly  full  play  ;  hence  the 
motion  of  the  upper  stratum  is  rapid  to  the  very 
center  of  the  stream,  where,  as  we  have  seen,  the 
water  is  even  heaped  up  into  a  ridge,  and  on  its  sur- 
face broken  into  wrinkles.  If,  however,  the  banks 
of  a  stream  of  water  are  very  gently  sloped,  the 
motion  of  the  cylinder  does  not  extend  quite  to  the 
margin,  but  leaves  a  limited  extent  of  water  in  that 
situation  but  very  slightly  affected,  and  really  form- 
ing almost  as  much  a  part  of  the  channel  as  of  the 
stream. 

DIMINISHED    MOVEMENT    AT    EDGE    OF    GLACIERS. 

In  glaciers  this  condition  at  the  margins  is  much 
magnified,  and  even  along  the  middle  of  the  glacier 
there  is  a  strip  more  or  less  broad  that  has  no  trans- 


192 


The  Laws  of  Riverflow. 


verse  but  only  a  longitudinal  motion.  If,  as  cur- 
rently held  by  scientists,  the  viscosity  in  the  ice 
river  is  due  to  the  pressure  of  the  overlying  mass  on 
the  parts  beneath,  it  can  not  extend  unimpaired  to 
the  surface,  though  it  will  be  somewhat  helped  out 
there  by  the  heat  of  the  sun.  In  addition  to  the 
absence  of  pressure  at  the  top,  the  surface  in  the 
middle  and  at  the  margins  is  protected  from  the 
sun's  rays  by  the  material  forming  the  central  and 
lateral  moraines,  and  is  thus  made  more  rigid  than  it 
would  otherwise  be. 


Fig.  5- 

TRANSVERSE  SECTION  OF  A  GLACIER. 

A — Unaffected  ice  at  margin  of  glacier. 

B — Medium  part  unaffected  by  lateral  motion. 

C— Center  of  cylinder. 

The  arrows  show  the  direction  of  spiral  motion. 

The  two  cylinders  forming  the  active  part  of  the 
glacier  will  not,  therefore,  extend  to  the  surface  with 
full  power,  as  a  rule,  so  that  a  more  or  less  extensive 
mass  of  surface  ice  will  be  left  nearly  free  from  lat- 
eral motion  as  in  the  illustration  (Fig.  5). 

The  inward  movement  of  the  upper  surface  of 
the  cylinder  will,  however,  drag  the  less  viscous 
surface  ice  obliquely  downward  and  inward  toward 


The  Laws  of  Riverfiow.  193 

the  middle,  and  innumerable  fractures  will  therefore 
be  made  in  the  surface  ice  as  it  is  pulled  upon 
obliquely  in  this  way. 

ROCKS    RISE    TO    THE    SURFACE. 

Rocks  and  other  material  dropped  into  the  fis- 
sures in  glaciers  have  been  observed  to  rise  to  the 
surface  at  the  edges,  a  fact  which,  for  such  instances, 
at  least,  would  go  to  show  that  the  ice  rises  at  the 
margins.  Doubtless  the  stones  of  the  central 
moraines,  when  once  sunk  beneath  the  surface,  go 
on  to  the  bottom  and  move  outward,  to  be  lifted  up 
again  perhaps  at  the  edge  of  the  glacier.  The  fact 
admitted  by  all  authorities,  that  the  motion  of 
glaciers  at  the  sides  and  bottom  is  retarded,  neces- 
sitates the  conclusion  that  the  double  spiral  motion 
obtains  also  in  them.  The  retardation  must  be 
progressive.  The  part,  then,  of  the  glacier  in  con- 
tact with  the  sides  must  very  soon  under  progressive 
retardation  become  stationary,  and  if  its  place  in 
the  moving  column  be  not  taken  by  other  and  faster 
moving  portions,  motion  in  the  whole  glacier  would 
finally  of  necessity  cease.  For,  as  shown  before, 
when  the  outer  part  became  stationary  from  friction 
against  the  channel,  the  parts  next  within  would 
become  stationary  from  friction  against  these,  and 
so  on  until  the  whole  mass  should  be  brought  to  a 
standstill. 

It  is  not  probable,  however,  that  the  double 
spiral  action  in  any  glacier  was  ever  active  enough 
to  inaugurate  a  channel.  Water,  doubtless,  first 
cut  all  the  channels  which  now  form  the  beds  of 
glaciers. 


194  ^-^^^  Laii's  of  River  flow. 


STREAMS    OF    ATMOSPHERE. 

The  application  of  the  principle  of  the  double 
spiral  to  the  movements  of  the  atmosphere  is  quite 
obvious,  but  owing  to  the  small  amount  of  friction 
among  particles  of  atmosphere,  the  question  is  em- 
barrassed with  infinite  complications.  Furthermore, 
it  is  only  occasionally  that  conditions  favor  the  man- 
ifestation of  this  motion. 

On  a  small  scale  it  is  often  exhibited  in  connec- 
tion with  summer  showers  occurring  in  a  country  of 
broken  surface.  It  is  a  popular  belief  that  streams 
of  water  attract  rain-clouds,  and  doubtless  territory 
in  the  vicinity  of  streams  is  favored  with  more  than 
its  share  of  summer  showers. 

It  is  not,  however,  that  streams  attract  the  rains, 
but  the  winds,  moving  in  line  with  the  extended 
depressions  in  which  the  streams  move,  take  the 
double  spiral  form,  and  the  clouds  are  drawn  to  the 
middle  just  as  drift  is  drawn  into  the  middle  of  a 
river. 

BLIZZARDS    AND    TEXAS    NORTHERS. 

When  a  vast  movement  of  the  atmosphere  takes 
place  along  the  sides  of  mountain  ranges  this  feat- 
ure is  brought  out  on  a  large  scale.  Thus,  when 
areas  of  high  pressure  compel  a  great  movement  of 
the  atmosphere  southward  along  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, the  mountains  on  the  west  side  of  it  act  as  one 
bank  of  an  enormous  river. 

The  friction  of  the  air  against  the  mountains 
causes  it  to  rise  and  climb  up  their  sides,  and  just  as 


TJic  Lazvs  of  Riverflozv.  195 

we  found  the  water  in  a  river  settling  down  in  the 
middle  to  replace  that  moving  out  at  the  bottom,  so 
the  air  from  the  colder  regions  above,  which  has  out- 
traveled  the  lower  strata  and  therefore  come  from 
farther  to  the  north,  settles  down  to  take  the  place 
of  the  air  moving  up  the  mountain  sides.  The  west- 
ern blizzard  and  above  all  the  Texas  norther  are 
in  large  measure  a  descending  part  of  a  spiral, 
determined  by  friction  of  the  winds  against  the  sur- 
face of  the  eastern  slope  of  the  Rocky  Mountains. 

THE    GULF    STREAM. 

The  so-called  gulf  streams,  because  first  observed 
flowing  into  and  out  of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  are  not  of 
the  same  nature  as  rivers,  though  the  current  is  well 
marked  off  in  a  part  of  their  course  from  the  mass 
of  the  ocean.  The  power  which  propels  these  vast 
currents  is  in  the  main  the  same  as  that  which  sup- 
plies energy  for  the  interchanging  of  the  polar  and 
equatorial  atmosphere.  It  is  derived  from  the  differ- 
ence of  density  between  the  water  near  the  equator 
and  that  toward  the  poles,  arising  from  a  difference 
of  temperature. 

A  slight  influence  is  probably  also  exerted  by  the 
preponderance  of  evaporation  in  the  tropics,  the 
evaporated  water  being  carried  toward  the  poles 
and  precipitated. 

The  water  thus  precipitated  must  of  course  join 
in  the  flow  toward  the  equator.  But  if  there  were 
no  evaporation,  the  water  would  expand  much  more 
under  the  equator  than  it  now  does,  and  the  pole- 
ward overflow  would  be  so  much  greater  that  it  is 


196  TJic  Lazus  of  Rivei'flow. 

questionable  whether  evaporation  does  not  detract 
from  rather  than  contribute  to  the  activity  of  the 
polar  and  equatorial  interchange. 

The  direction  of  these  ocean  currents,  however, 
as  we  find  them  in  the  tropics,  concentrated  into 
streams,  is  doubtless  determined  by  the  westerly- 
blowing  tradewinds,  as  is  also  a  large  part  of  their 
movement. 

It  is  not  possible,  however,  that  the  energy  that 
drives  these  vast  flows  of  water  far  even  into  the 
polar  seas  can  be  the  momentum  imparted  to  them 
by  the  converging  tradewinds. 

After  they  have  turned  poleward  and  escaped 
from  the  region  of  the  tradewinds,  they  pass,  in  so 
far  as  direction  is  concerned,  mainly  under  the  con- 
trol of  the  rotary  movement  of  the  earth. 

But  the  momentum  previously  obtained  doubt- 
less persists  for  a  time  as  a  propelling  force.  The 
most  active  cause  of  movement,  as  already  stated, 
is  the  indirect  operation  of  gravity  pulling  them 
down  the  actual  incline  of  the  ocean  plane,  due  to 
the  expansion  of  the  equatorial  waters. 

Their  return,  on  the  other  hand,  is  largely  along 
the  potential  incline  of  the  cold  waters  beneath, 
which  extends  toward  the  equator. 

When  these  streams  are  left  almost  wholly  to 
the  influence  of  gravity,  as  when  they  turn  and  start 
back  toward  the  equator,  they  break  up  and  lose 
their  identity. 

But  as  long  as  they  preserve  the  proportions  of 
a  river,  as  on  the  coast  of  Florida  or  Japan,  for 
instance,  they  are  subject  to  the  same  laws  that 
govern  rivers. 


TJic  Laws  of  Rivcrfloxv.  197 

Yet,  owing  to  the  greatly  limited  friction  between 
the  ocean  stream  and  its  watery  walls,  as  compared 
to  that  between  a  river  and  its  banks,  the  double- 
spiral  must  be  much  less  conspicuous. 

This  character  of  motion  must  also  be  supple- 
mented to  a  considerable  extent  in  the  currents 
which  move  from  east  to  west  along  the  equator, 
since  the  wind  which  mainly  produces  them  is  con- 
stantly driving  the  water  of  the  surface  obliquely 
inward  from  either  side.  In  this  case  the  double- 
spiral  is  promoted  by  friction  at  the  surface  instead 
of  the  bottom,  as  in  rivers. 

PRACTICAL    APPLICATION. 

The  practical  application  of  the  principles  con- 
sidered in  this  essay  may  facilitate  the  discovery  of 
general  formulas  for  calculating  the  capacity  of 
canals  intended  for  conveying  water  at  varying  de- 
grees of  inclination,  and  of  methods  for  keeping 
irrigating  canals  free  from  boulders  at  the  point 
where  water  is  first  led  into  them  from  rivers.  The 
discovery  may  also  throw  light  upon  the  question  of 
the  best  means  for  improving  and  controlling  rivers. 

The  question  of  this  nature  which  for  the  peo- 
ple of  this  country  surpasses  in  interest  and  im- 
portance is  that  of  the  improvement  and  control  of 
the  Mississippi  River,  although  nearly  every  country 
has  similar  occasion  for  its  special  application. 

The  problem  of  the  Mississippi  involves  the  con- 
sideration of  three  important  measures,  in  regard  to 
which  there  is  much  diversity  of  opinion  among 
engfineers. 


198  TJw  Laws  of  Rivcrfloiv. 

These  measures  are  the  construction  of  jetties, 
the  erection  of  levees,  and  the  maintenance  of  out- 
lets. The  jetty  system,  as  now  in  operation  at  one 
of  the  outlets  of  the  Mississippi,  stands  approved 
throughout  by  the  principle  of  the  double  spiral ; 
for  it  aims  at  contracting  the  width  of  water  flowing 
over  bars  so  as  to  secure  the  proper  relation  be- 
tween the  width  of  a  channel  and  its  depth,  where 
otherwise  the  tendency  would  be  for  the  stream  to 
widen  at  the  expense  of  its  depth,  or  even  to  di- 
vide and  form  a  number  of  channels.  The  limit  of 
depth  to  which  any  body  of  water  flowing  through 
jetty  walls  can  attain  will  be  the  point  at  which  the 
accelerated  mass  of  water  sinking  down  in  the  mid- 
dle no  longer  strikes  the  bottom  with  sufficient 
force  for  purposes  of  erosion  —  a  problem  which  may 
some  time  be  exactly  formulated. 

All  the  jettying,  however,  that  it  can  ever  be  in 
the  power  of  any  government  to  do,  while  it  may 
improve  navigation,  can  never  materially  affect  the 
problem  presented  by  the  great  river,  as  relating  to 
its  control. 

The  question  of  levees  is  a  matter  which  pre- 
sents greater  financial  than  scientific  difficulties. 
The  levee  system  likewise  is  based  upon  nature's 
own  plan,  for  we  have  seen  that  a  river  flowing  into 
a  shallow  body  of  water  will,  if  it  carry  sufficient 
silt,  build  up  at  first  a  bed  for  itself,  and  then  throw 
up  levees  on  its  bank  so  as  greatly  to  limit  if  not 
eventually  arrest  its  own  overflov/. 

But  nature  contemplates  a  continuous  levee  and 
a  limited    overflow  at   any  one  point,   and  not  the 


TJic  Laivs  of  Riverjiozv.  199 

building  up  of  a  levee  so  as  to  accumulate  a  large 
head  of  water,  to  be  allowed  to  pour  through  at 
a  few  points  and  open  deep  outlets  to  the  sea.  The 
width  of  the  river  must  be  proportioned  to  its  depth  ; 
and  since  cultivation  of  the  soil  at  the  headwaters 
of  the  Mississippi  and  the  restraint  of  the  shallow 
overflow  which  once  took  place  over  a  long  line  of 
bank  have  greatly  increased  the  volume  of  water 
to  be  carried  by  the  river  in  the  lower  part  of  its 
course  in  times  of  flood  as  well  as  prevented  the 
ejection  of  silt,  the  levees  along  the  corresponding 
part  of  the  stream  must  be  constructed  far  enough 
back  from  the  banks  to  allow  the  channel  to  widen 
and  the  river  to  re-establish  its  regimen. 

In  the  absence  of  any  disturbing  cause,  such  as 
rock  in  the  bottom  of  the  channel  or  excessive 
amounts  of  detritus,  the  slope  of  a  river  will,  as  we 
have  seen,  be  regulated  from  the  point  of  the  out- 
flow at  the  sea ;  that  is,  the  slope  from  that  point 
will  be  no  more  than  is  necessary  to  admit  of  the 
flow  of  the  water.  As  the  sea  is  pushed  farther 
away  by  silt  deposit,  the  river  bed  must  be  elevated 
along  its  whole  line  above  in  order  to  preserve  the 
proper  incline.  This  will,  of  course,  produce  in- 
creased overflow  of  the  banks  until  they  can  be  sufft- 
ciently  built  up  to  prevent  it. 

Without,  then,  considering  the  question  of  outlets, 
since  we  know  that  the  Mississippi  has  been  steadily 
encroaching  on  the  Gulf  with  its  delta,  there  has 
been  no  time  in  its  history  when  it  did  not  overflow 
and  send  its  waters  off  to  the  Gulf  by  lateral  routes 
above  New  Orleans.     All  of  the  flood  water  of  the 


200  TJie  Laws  of  Riverjloxv. 

Mississippi  never  did  pass  New  Orleans.  Other 
proof  would  hardly  be  necessary  to  demonstrate  that 
the  levees  below  the  mouth  of  the  Red  River  are 
neither  high  enough  nor  located  sufficiently  far  from 
the  banks  of  the  river,  if  the  conveyance  of  the 
entire  body  of  water  discharged  by  the  Mississippi  is 
contemplated.  The  principal  if  not  the  insuperable 
difficulty  of  constructing  such  a  system  of  levees  as 
the  conditions  require  is  the  enormous  pecuniary 
outlay  involved  in  the  undertaking. 

The  propriety  of  constructing  outlets  which  shall 
lead  off  a  part  of  the  flood  water  of  the  Mississippi 
at  some  point  above  the  mouth  has  excited  much 
controversy.  But  consistently  with  the  principles 
herein  advocated,  outlets  would  prove  futile  or 
harmful  according  to  their  extent  and  the  objects 
they  might  be  expected  to  accomplish.  The  three 
great  outlets  above  New  Orleans,  namely,  Plaque- 
mine,  Lafourche,  and  Atchafalaya,  which  were  most 
likely  formed  under  geological  conditions  different 
from  those  which  now  obtain,  had  nearly  or  com- 
pletely closed  up  at  their  sources  when  Louisiana 
was  first  settled  and  when  the  building  of  levees  was 
first  begun.* 

*  Humphreys  and  Abbott,  in  their  report  on  the  Mississippi,  contend  that 
these  outlets  never  were  mouths  of  the  Mississippi,  but  have  been  formed 
by  overflows.  They  also  maintain  that  the  present  great  muddy  Mississippi 
is  less  than  five  thousand  yenrs  old,  and  never  had  mouths  above  the  present 
outlets  at  the  passes.  They  may  be  correct  as  to  the  age  of  the  Mississippi 
in  its  present  form,  but  these  bayous,  with  countless  others  which  can  yet  be 
traced  in  the  deltas,  were  doubtless  made  by  the  comparatively  clear  and 
small  stream  which  formerly  occupied  the  line  of  the  present  Mississippi; 
and  when  the  latter  broke  through  from  the  great  inland  sea  that  its  waters 
then  formed,  it  first  filled  them  up  at  the  head  with  silt  as  it  advanced  to  the 
ocean,  and  subsequently  cut  them  out  again  under  the  great  pressure  due  to 
increased  head  of  water  produced  by  levees.  Such  bayous  have  been  made 
through  the  "tule"  lands  of  the  Sacramento  and  San  Joaquin  ;  every  delta 
river  in  the  world  has  them,  and  there  seems  but  one  way  in  which  they  can 
be  formed. 


The  Latvs  of  Riverjloxv.  201 

The  first  two,  through  the  impetus  and  volume 
given  them,  have  been  enlarged  into  considerable 
streams,  while  the  third,  the  Atchafalaya,  seriously 
threatens  to  become  the  main  channel  of  the  Missis- 
sippi. A  complete  maintenance  of  levees  along  that 
part  of  the  Mississippi  bordering  on  the  Atchafala3-a 
basin,  leaving  the  outlet  open  as  now,  must  in  a  few 
years  result  in  turning  the  Mississippi  into  the  Gulf 
by  way  of  the  Atchafalaya,  thus  completely  shutting 
New  Orleans  off  from  river  navigation,  and  leaving 
it  on  an  arm  of  the  sea. 

The  fear  that  outlets  may  cause  the  main  chan- 
nel of  the  river  at  points  just  below  them  to  fill  up 
with  silt  need  not  be  seriously  entertained  until  the 
outlet  shall  have  become  the  main  channel.  It  has 
been  shown  that  the  water  sinks  downward  in  the 
middle  of  streams  and  moves  out  at  the  bottom  with 
constantly  diminished  speed,  to  be  almost  completely 
arrested  at  the  banks.  Deposits  of  silt,  then,  should 
first  be  expected  at  the  banks  below  outlets,  and 
not  in  the  middle  of  the  stream ;  at  all  events  the 
deposit  at  the  sides  and  middle  would  be  propor- 
tional after  the  stream  had  recovered  from  the 
disturbance  due  to  the  opening  of  the  outlet.  As 
regards  the  Lake  Borgne  outlet  below  New  Orleans, 
first  officially  suggested  by  Humphreys  and  Abbott, 
and  since  warmly  advocated  by  many,  it  is  not 
easy  to  see  how  it  could  prove  of  any  considerable 
efficiency,  or  be  maintained  except  at  great  cost, 
unless  it  should  first  have  become  the  main  channel 
of  the  river.  On  account  of  the  narrowness  and 
shallowness  of  the  outlet  by  this  route,  the  outflow- 


202  1  Jie  Laws  of  Rivcrflozv. 

ing  water  would  be  so  retarded  that  an  extensive 
deposit  of  silt  would  take  place  at  the  lower  part  of 
the  lake  at  every  overflow,  and  this  would  continue 
to  increase  until  the  outlet  should  be  practically 
closed.  In  the  mean  time  the  transverse  under- 
current of  the  river  at  flood  would  throw  silt  into  it 
at  its  head,  so  as  to  necessitate  each  returning  season 
a  large  outlay  for  its  removal. 

But  if,  on  the  other  hand,  the  scouring  should 
progress,  and  one  of  those  rare  occurences — the  turn- 
ing of  a  great  river  from  its  channel — should  take 
place,  the  lifetime  of  generations  might  be  required 
for  the  new  channel  to  be  bored  out  and  leveed  up 
by  the  current  along  the  new  route  so  as  to  make  it 
available  for  navigation.  Such  a  change,  though 
possible,  is  not  likely  under  the  conditions  existing 
at  that  point. 

RED    RIVER    CHANGED    ITS    ROUTE. 

Owing  mainly  to  the  influence  of  the  double 
spiral,  water  moves  much  more  easily  and  econom- 
ically in  large  streams  than  in  small  ones.  Thus 
Red  River  chose  to  give  up  its  route  of  one  hundred 
and  eighty  miles  through  the  Teche  to  the  Gulf,  and 
now  travels  three  hundred  and  sixty  miles  to  the 
same  destination,  for  the  reason  that  it  proved  to 
be  a  measure  of  economy  to  join  forces  and  to 
travel  the  greater  distance  in  company  with  the  Mis- 
sissippi than  to  traverse  the  shorter  distance  alone 
and  in  its  own  smaller  channel. 

Still,  when  a  delta  is  pushed  far  out  into  the  sea 
and  a  river  is  compelled  to  flow  on  a  narrow  ridge, 


The  Laws  of  Riverflozv. 


203 


with  the  loss  of  inchne  incident  to  such  a  condition, 
the  time  must  come  when  it  will  break  from  its 
channel  and  seek  the  sea  at  some  nearer  point  to 
the  right  or  to  the  left.  But  when  that  time  is  to 
arrive  in  the  history  of  the  Mississippi  remains  for 
the  future  to  disclose. 


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